THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

AN  ESSAY  ON  AMERICAN  IDEALISM 


BY 

GUSTAVE  RODRIGUES 

\\ 


TRANSLATED  BY 

LOUISE  SEYMOUR  HOUGHTON 

WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION    BY 

J.  MARK  BALDWIN 

COBBESPONDING   MEMBER   OF  THE  FRENCH   INSTITUTE 


AND  A  PREFACE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION  BY 
THE  AUTHOR 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1918 


COPTHIGHT,    1918.    BY 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER  S  SONS 
Published  October,  1918 


PREFACE  TO  THE 
AMERICAN    EDITION 

I  SHALL  not  try  to  conceal  the  pleasure  it 
gives  me  to  see  my  book,  The  People  of  Action, 
published  in  the  United  States  and  introduced 
to  the  acquaintance  of  the  American  people 
by  the  house  of  Scribner.  At  the  moment 
when  our  two  great  democracies,  with  all  their 
strengths  united,  are  fighting  for  a  peace  of 
justice  and  for  the  independence  of  the  world, 
I  confess  to  feeling  some  pride  in  the  thought 
that  my  modest  effort  for  strengthening  the 
bonds  which  join  us  has  been  thought  worthy 
of  so  great  an  honor. 

If  my  book  has  no  other  merit,  it  possesses 
that  of  entire  sincerity.  Along  with  eulogies 
which  I  have  not  tried  either  to  minimize  or 
to  exaggerate,  it  contains  some  reservations, 
even  some  criticisms,  which  I  have  no  wish  to 
weaken.  I  have  sought  to  show  my  fellow 
countrymen  the  American  as  I  have  seen  him, 
with  his  qualities  of  energy,  audacity,  gener 
osity;  but  also  with  his  faults — or  rather  the 
things  which  I  have  seemed  to  find  defective  in 

V 

.385123 


vi  PREFACE 

him — his  extreme  impulsiveness,  his  somewhat 
narrow  views,  his  still  incomplete  culture. 

Such  as  he  is,  he  has  seemed  to  me  very  great, 
and  to  have  grown  even  greater  by  the  part 
that  he  has  just  taken  in  the  view  of  history. 
The  events  which  have  happened  since  the 
publication  of  my  book  in  France  have  con 
firmed  me  in  this  belief. 

American  intervention,  which  was  then  hardly 
more  than  a  promise,  has  developed  to-day  with 
a  strength  that  could  hardly  be  imagined. 
What  seemed  to  be  impossible  has  been  realized. 
The  provision  made  for  it  has  surpassed  expec 
tation  and  beaten  all  records.  In  January, 
1918,  there  were  only  a  few  thousands  of  Ameri 
can  soldiers  on  our  soil;  to-day  we  may  esti 
mate  1,300,000,  perhaps  1,500,000.  The  tide 
flows  on  unceasingly,  with  a  regularity  that  is 
impressive,  formidable.  In  the  vigorous  words 
of  President  Wilson,  the  hour  cannot  be  long 
delayed  when  the  forces  of  liberty  will  be  every 
where  overwhelming  the  forces  of  slavery,  and 
when  it  will  at  last  be  possible  for  man  to  live 
truly  and  fully  in  a  pacified  and  regenerated 
world. 

And  of  this  peaceful  regeneration  the  United 
States  will  have  been,  not  of  course  the  sole 
agents,  but  among  the  chief  constructors.  They 


PREFACE  vii 

will  have  had  the  advantage  over  old  and  di 
vided  Europe  of  being  a  young  people,  a  united 
federation,  and  even  now  in  a  concrete  form  a 
first  League  of  Nations. 

Thus  for  all  their  Allies  they  are  at  the  same 
time  a  model  to  follow  and,  it  must  be  con 
fessed,  a  riddle  to  solve.  They  do  not  come 
into  the  conflict  with  that  old  mentality  ad 
justed  to  war  which  we  bring  to  it,  all  of  us, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree;  for  they  have  not 
behind  them  eight  or  ten  centuries  of  battling 
against  foreign  peoples.  War,  well  as  they 
make  it — and  we  know  how  fervently — is  for 
them  in  some  degree  a  word  without  meaning, 
for  war  presupposes  conquest,  and  they  recog 
nize  nothing  but  voluntary  agreement;  peoples 
are  not  for  them  a  kind  of  cattle  to  be  bartered 
or  stolen  by  the  right  of  the  strongest;  they  are 
autonomous  beings,  masters  of  their  own  des 
tinies.  War  makes  sacred  the  rule  of  fact  in 
all  its  original  brutality — the  human,  or  rather 
the  inhuman,  beast  unchained  to  gratify  his 
lowest  appetites;  and  the  United  States  pro 
claims  the  rule  of  law,  the  judicial  state  perma 
nently  and  definitely  established  between  equals, 
respect  alike  for  the  individual  personality  and 
the  collective  personality. 

Yes,  the  American  nation,  which  is  still  in 


viii  PREFACE 

the  making,  which  is  still  seeking  to  find  itself, 
but  which  in  this  present  struggle  will  find  it 
self  once  for  all,  is  among  all  peoples  the  peace 
ful  nation,  the  one  which  owes  to  the  achieve 
ments  of  peace  both  its  unprecedented  pros 
perity  and  its  purely  democratic  institutions. 
It  is,  if  I  may  say  so,  peace  made  a  nation, 
as  its  President,  Mr.  Wilson,  is  peace  made 
man. 

And  it  is  from  this  that  the  intervention  of 
the  United  States  in  the  World  War  derives  its 
full  meaning.  To  German  imperialism,  to  that 
final  return  to  their  ancestral  barbarism  which 
we  thought  we  could  look  upon  as  definitely 
checked  by  civilization,  the  United  States  in 
flexibly  opposes  the  great  dam  of  its  men,  its 
armament,  and  its  gold.  It  says  to  this  devil 
ish  force:  Thou  shalt  go  no  further.  It  is  forc 
ing  it  back,  and  forever,  into  the  darkness  of 
the  Middle  Ages  from  which  by  an  incompre 
hensible  anachronism  it  burst  forth  to  lay 
waste  the  world. 

"This  does  not  belong  to  our  day,"  M. 
Clemenceau,  now  Premier  of  France,  wrote  in 
an  article  in  L'Homme  Libre  just  after  the  war 
broke  out.  ''This  does  not  belong  to  our  day," 
repeated  after  him  Mr.  Wilson,  and  with  its 
President  spoke  the  whole  American  Union; 


PREFACE  ix 

and  it  is  "our  day"  that  has  just  brought  into 
being  the  young  American  army,  the  army  of 
liberty,  to  drive  back  the  day  of  the  past,  the 
day  of  mediaeval  slavery. 

This  army  has  but  just  entered  the  fight, 
where  it  has  shown  to  a  wondering  world  and 
an  astounded  Germany  of  what  achievement 
it  is  capable.  Against  professional  soldiers, 
against  veterans  trained  in  all  the  devices  of 
war,  it  has  tested  the  strength  of  its  young 
volunteers — perhaps  still  somewhat  inexperi 
enced  but  fighting  for  an  ideal  and  not  for  a 
master.  In  conjunction  with  the  other  Allied 
combatants  it  has  checked  at  its  first  blow  the 
German  force,  and  to-morrow  it  will  shatter  it. 

But  if  the  military  effort  of  the  United  States 
has  been  beyond  compare,  it  has  its  double  in 
a  civil  effort  which  is  not  less  so.  The  popula 
tion  of  this  country,  which  overflows  with  riches, 
where  harvests  and  provisions  are  spread  broad 
cast  in  their  abundance,  has  voluntarily  im 
posed  upon  itself  the  severest  privations.  It 
has  stinted  itself  of  bread  in  order  to  feed 
those  nations  beyond  the  Atlantic  which  the 
submarine  blockade  was  trying  to  starve.  It 
has  experienced,  more  than  France  and  very 
largely  for  the  sake  of  France,  crises  in  coal  and 


x  PREFACE 

other  necessary  products;  it  has  accepted  very 
severe  restrictions,  not  merely  patiently  but 
joyously,  with  a  smile  upon  its  lips. 

Toward  our  country  especially  it  has  shown 
an  admirable  devotion,  and  I  may  add  delicacy. 
It  has  given  in  profusion,  as  is  its  custom,  and 
in  giving  it  has  taken  the  attitude  not  of  a 
benefactor  but  of  one  fulfilling  an  obligation. 
The  American  Red  Cross,  the  Rockefeller  mis 
sion,  the  Young  Men's  and  the  Young  Women's 
Christian  Associations — to  mention  only  the 
most  important  among  its  charitable  institu 
tions — have  all  rivalled  one  another  in  gener 
osity,  ingenuity,  and  industry.  The  American 
has  one  virtue  and  a  rare  one — he  remembers 
services  that  have  been  done  him;  he  is  never 
ungrateful.  "We  of  the  United  States  are  a 
grateful  nation,"  said  General  Allaire,  provost 
marshal  of  the  American  forces  in  France. 
"Lafayette  and  Rochambeau  are  names  that 
an  American  speaks  with  reverence  and  affec 
tion,  are  heroes  whose  memory  he  cherishes  in 
his  heart.  And,  as  his  fashion  is,  he  is  bringing 
back  to  you  a  hundredfold  that  which  he  re 
ceived  from  you." 

However,  at  the  same  time  that  the  Ameri 
can  gives,  he  asks;  and  what  he  asks  above  all 
from  France  is  an  intellectual  and  moral  collab- 


PREFACE  xi 

oration  and  continuous  exchange  of  opinions, 
ideas,  and  sentiments. 

From  this  springs  the  daily  and  hourly  co 
operation  that  exists  everywhere  and  in  all 
fields  of  action.  Examples  are  the  "Foyers  du 
Soldat,"  where  the  Young  Men's  Christian  As 
sociation  joins  its  endeavors  to  those  of  our 
French  citizens  and  of  our  high  command  in 
placing  its  immense  resources  at  the  service  of 
the  troops.  Such  also  is  the  "Foyer  des  Alliees," 
which  the  young  women  of  the  Y.  W.  C.  A.  have 
established  for  our  employees  and  ammunition 
workers,  with  the  intimate  and  constant  sup 
port  of  some  devoted  Frenchwomen  and  of  some 
leaders  of  industry.  A  further  instance  is  the 
"College  des  Etats-Unis,"  which  a  Franco- 
American  committee,  made  up  of  intellectual 
leaders  of  the  two  countries,  is  establishing  in 
Paris,  and  which  is  proposing  as  the  first  point 
of  its  active  programme  the  concerted  study  of 
progress  made  in  war  surgery,  in  war  medicine, 
in  war  radiology.  Still  another  is  the  ceaseless 
activity  of  the  American  Chamber  of  Com 
merce  in  Paris,  which,  under  the  urgent  leader 
ship  of  its  president,  Mr.  Walter  Berry,  is 
exerting  itself  to  bring  about  in  the  future  fol 
lowing  the  war  the  closest  and  most  productive 
commercial  relations  between  the  two  countries. 


xii  PREFACE 

Yes,  that  which  America  asks  of  France 
above  all  else  is  the  means  of  obliging  her,  the 
most  certain  and  most  effective  methods  of 
making  her  "greater  than  ever,"  to  quote  once 
more  from  General  Allaire. 

She  expects  also  that  which  we  are  able  to 
give  her  and  which  we  shall  bring  to  her  joy 
fully — I  mean  the  "culture  de  I' esprit,"  that 
refinement  of  thought  which  has  always  been 
an  attribute  of  the  French  race.  To  replace 
the  German  teachers  in  her  universities,  she 
appeals  to  ours.  Young  and  still  without  pre 
tension,  she  believes  that  she  can  get  at  our 
school  that  which  she  lacks,  and  that  to  make 
the  complete  man  she  can  add  to  her  qualities 
of  action  and  of  matter-of-factness  the  charm 
and,  as  it  were,  the  perfume  of  French  culture. 

Thus  there  is  everything  to  expect  and 
everything  to  hope  not  only  for  the  two  na 
tions  but  for  all  civilization  from  a  Franco- 
American  rapprochement — and  even  more  from 
a  Franco-American  intimacy.  This  rapproche 
ment  and  this  intimacy  come  about  by  the  very 
nature  of  things,  and  they  will  become  every 
day  more  real.  They  arouse  on  all  hands,  be 
sides  efforts  at  practical  realization,  other  at 
tempts  at  propaganda  of  which  my  book  is 
only  a  very  inconsiderable  sample.  The  future, 


PREFACE  xiii 

we  may  be  sure,  belongs  to  a  great  union  of  free 
peoples,  and  at  the  head  of  this  union  we  may 
look  to  see  especially  the  two  great  peoples 
which,  one  in  the  Old  World  and  one  in  the 
New,  have  been  the  unquestioned  champions 
of  the  rights  of  man  and  of  the  rights  of  nations. 
This  is  what  I  desire  to  say  to  our  American 
friends. 

GUSTAVE   RODRIGUES. 

PARIS,  August  15,  1918. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION  BY  J.  MARK  BALDWIN xxiii 

PREFACE  TO  THE  FRENCH  EDITION xliii 

CHAPTER  I 

AMERICA  AND  THE  CONDITIONS  OF  ITS 
EXISTENCE 

PREJUDICE   AGAINST    THE    UNITED    STATES. — AMERICAN 

REALISM  AND  IDEALISM 3 

I.    HISTORIC  CONDITIONS 

The  United  States  have  no  historic  past. — Their  free 
dom  from  national  hatred 5 

Colonial  origins. — Subordination  and  elimination  of  ^ 

the  indigenous  element 8 

Immigration  and  the  juxtaposition  of  races. — No  Eng-  ** 

lish  hegemony. — America  not  Anglo-Saxon    .      .       11 

American  patriotism. — Federalism  and  particularism. 
—The  "faculty  of  absorption"  of  the  United 
States. — The  American  patrie  in  process  of  be 
coming  16 

II.    POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 

The  United  States  have  no  political  past. — The  origi 
nal  democracy  and  autonomy. — Ignorance  of 
autocracy  and  centralization 20 

III.    ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS 

The  United  States  have  no  economic  past. — America 
was  born  contemporaneously  with  science. — Ra 
tional  and  not  empirical  character  of  American 
production. — Agriculture. — Commerce. — Indus 
try  26 

xv 


xvi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  United  States  the  land  of  the  new  and  of  in 
vention. — American  pluralism. — American  activ 
ity  28 

CHAPTER  II 

THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL 

THE  AMERICAN  AN   INDIVIDUALIST,  BUT   NOT   INDIVID 
UALIZED;  WILL  RATHER  THAN  INTELLIGENCE  ...       38 

I.    WEALTH 

The  American  a  "money-maker." — Contempt  of 
"ready-made"  wealth,  dowry,  inheritance. — 
Money  the  criterium  of  personal  worth  ...  40 

Money  not  an  object  of  enjoyment,  but  a  manifestation 

of  power. — Daring  of  American  capital  ...       43 

The  idealization  of  wealth. — Its  moral  action. — Its 

creative  power. — Non-existence  of  the  idle  rich  .       48 

American  philanthropy. — Its  utilitarian  character. — 
Disinterestedness  of  the  very  rich. — Voluntary 
self-impoverishment. — "It  is  a  disgrace  to  die 
rich" 50 

II.    LIBERTY 

The  American  meaning  of  liberty;   emancipation  and 

fullest  realization  of  the  individual      ....       53 

1.  Independence:  America  an  "open  field"  for  all  ac 

tivities       54 

2.  Force:   power   of    expansion;    struggle   with    des 

tiny      56 

3.  Will:  formation  of  character,  effort;  America  the 

land  of  "hard  workers" 58 

4.  Well-being:    moral  discipline  and  freedom  of  the 

will  62 


CONTENTS  xvii 

III.    EDUCATION 

PAGE 

Its  virile  character. — It  admits  of  risk 66 

Respect   for  the  child's   liberty. — Moral   equality  of 

parents  and  children 68 

The  American  educational  system. — Its  practical 
character. — Culture  sacrificed  to  utility. — Ameri 
can  science. — Little  theory,  but  results  ...  73 

IV.    THE  MAN 

A  poor  man  who  aspires  to  be  rich. — His  energy. — 

His  faculty  of  adaptation  to  any  task      ...       78 

The  "business  man." — The  strenuous  life. — The  sense 

of  opportunity. — Self-confidence 82 

Incomplete  but  powerful  life  of  the  American. — The 

mysticism  of  activity 85 

V.    THE  WOMAN 

Equality  of  sexes. — Co-education. — Physical  life  and 

"culture" 89 

Marriage. — Independence  of  the  married  woman. — 

Frequency  of  divorce. — Every  woman  a  feminist       93 

VI.    THE  SOCIAL  ORGANIZATION 

The  danger  of  anarchy. — Its  remedies:  Personality 

and  Morality 99 

1.  Personality:   the  power  of  the  individual;    elimi 

nation  of  the  weak;  America  the  country  of  vic 
tors  102 

2.  Morality:  Puritanism    and   Protestant  discipline; 

personal  religion;  the  sentiment  of  justice;  alli 
ance  of  duty  and  interest;  idealization  of  self- 
interest;  its  natural  prolongation  into  altru 
ism  103 

The  individual  ideal. — The  new  human  type. — Emer 
son's  "reforming  man" 117 


xviii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  III 
THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL 
I.    THE  STATE 

PAGE 

America  "a  nation  of  individuals." — Contrast  be 
tween  European  nationalism  and  American  indi 
vidualism. — There  is  no  American  nation  .  .  122 

Weakness  of  political  life. — Power  of  public  opinion. 

— American  democracy        125 

II.    THE  DECLARATION  OF  RIGHTS 

The  United  States  were  born  of  Right  and  not  of  Fact. 
—Individual  rights:  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit 
of  happiness 131 

National  rights. — Independence  and  moral  personal 
ity. — "Righteous  insurrection" 135 

Rejection  of  the  "strong  government." — The  United 

States  a  government  of  men 138 

m.    THE  UNION 

Heterogeneous  character  of  the  United  States. — They 
form  a  union,  but  not  a  unit. — Autonomy  and 
equality  of  the  various  states 142 

Possible  conflicts  between  states  and  union. — Flex 
ibility  of  the  unified  organization 146 

IV.    THE  PRESIDENT 

He  symbolizes  the  Union. — His  powers. — His  moral 

strength:  he  is  the  conscience  of  the  United  States     151 

His  judicial  and  arbitral  character. — He  holds  his 

power  only  from  the  people 153 

V.    THE  LAW 

Pre-eminence  of  the  judicial  power. — The   Supreme 

Court  the  guardian  of  the  Constitution    .      .      .     158 


CONTENTS  xix 

PAGE 

Unity  of  legal  orientation. — Every  functionary  is 
a  judge  giving  sentence  in  accordance  with  the 
Constitution. — The  States  "centrifugal  forces," 
and  the  Constitution  the  "centripetal  force"  .  161 

Justice  and  legality  the  bases  of  the  American  nation. 

— "Honesty  is  the  best  policy" 167 

The  unity  of  America  and  "the  Indestructibility  of 

the  Union"  170 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL 

I.    AMERICAN  INTERNATIONALISM 

America  an  Inter  nation. — Contrast  between  the  dis 
united  states  of  Europe  and  the  United  States  of 
America. — Rejection  of  the  system  of  alliances 
and  the  politics  of  conquest 173 

The  Americanization  of  the  United  States. — Tendency 
toward  the  conception  and  accomplishment  of 
international  duty 180 

The  Monroe  Doctrine  and  American  isolation    .      .     184 

II.    THE  ARMY  AND  WAR 

American    pacifism. — Non-existence    of    a    standing 

army 187 

The  American  militia. — "Volunteers  of  Liberty." — 
Their  military  and  their  civil  values. — The  Ameri 
can  army  an  army  of  individuals 190 

War  and  peace. — War  is  cowardly,  peace  is  courageous     194 

Refusal  of  wars  of  conquest. — All  American  wars  have 

been  wars  of  independence 196 


xx  CONTENTS 

HI.    UNIVERSAL  PEACE  AND  THE  "SOCIETY 
OF  NATIONS" 

PAGE 

The  nations  considered  as  moral  persons. — Autocra 
cies  and  democracies. — The  German  Empire  and 
its  allies  "enemies  of  humanity" 202 

Intervention  of  America  in  the  World  War. — She  rep 
resents  the  "future  of  humanity." — Emerson's 
"Declaration  of  Human  Duties" 207 

President  Wilson's  policy. — 1.  The  installation  of 
Right — Peace  "without  annexations  and  indem 
nities,"  but  with  "readjustments"  and  "repara 
tions."— 2.  The  "Society  of  Nations."— Inter 
national  justice  and  world  union 213 

The  United  States  and  "international  duty."— The 
world  made  free. — The  American  ideal  and  the 
French  ideal  .  225 


CHAPTER  V 

AMERICAN  IDEALISM 

IDEALISM  AND  REALISM. — Is  THERE  AN  AMERICAN  IDEAL 
ISM  ?  229 


I.    AMERICAN  IDEALISM 

There  is  no  American  idealism. — The  meagreness  of 

American  life 229 

Philosophical  empiricism. — Utilitarian  religion. — Im 
itative  art. — Lack  of  sentimental  comprehen 
sion. — The  morals  of  self-interest  .  233 


II.    AMERICAN  IDEALISM 

There  is  an  American  idealism. — Idealism  of  action, 

not  of  thought 237 

Philosophy  of  life  and  of  creation. — Religion  of  hu 
manity  and  salvation  by  effort. — Militant  art. — 


CONTENTS  xxi 

PAGE 

Strong  sensibility  against  weak  sensibility. — The 
morals  of  will  and  of  work 240 

Fundamental  tendency:  to  "free  energies"  in  order  to 

"liberate  values" 244 

Conclusion:  the  practical   ideal  of  actuality   substi 
tuted  for  the  intellectual  ideal  of  culture  249 


INTRODUCTION 

I  CONSIDER  it  a  privilege  to  write  an  intro 
duction  to  this  book.  I  see  in  it  the  means  of 
bringing  to  light  a  sort  of  collaboration  which, 
in  addition  to  so  many  others,  will  contribute 
a  little  to  tighten  the  bonds  of  the  Franco- 
American  entente. 

I  also  find  in  it  a  pleasure,  for  I  deem  this 
book  to  be  one  of  great  interest  and  real  value, 
especially  at  this  time  when  Frenchmen  and 
Americans  are  looking  one  another  squarely  in 
the  eye,  and  asking  one  another:  "Who  are 
you?  What  may  I  expect  of  you?"  M. 
Rodrigues  here  tells  his  fellow  countrymen  what 
the  American  is,  and  what  the  Frenchmen  may 
expect  to  receive  from  him. 

What,  then,  is  the  American  ? 

The  author  replies,  as  others  have  done  be 
fore  him,  though  with  less  precision,  and  in  a 
less  concise  form:  "What  is  the  American? 
This  is  what  he  is:  In  temperament,  a  man  of 
action,  of  efficiency;  in  the  matter  of  culture, 
a  novice;  in  theory  and  practice — so  far  as  he 
has  any — an  individualist;  in  tendency  and 


XXlll 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION 

purpose,  whether  individual  or  national,  an 
unconscious  idealist." 

On  all  these  points  I  agree  with  the  author, 
and  he  sums  up  his  just  conclusions  in  a  truly 
masterly  way.  The  only  reservations  which  I 
shall  have  to  make,  whatever  their  importance 
may  be,  bear  only  upon  details,  upon  examples 
and  facts  cited,  upon  toning  down  certain  too 
energetic  statements,  but  not  upon  their  funda 
mental  significance. 

In  every  case  when  we  penetrate  to  the  ideal 
we  are  confronted  with  a  question;  when  we 
consider  the  Americans  taken  as  a  whole,  we 
have  to  ask  ourselves:  What  is  precisely  the 
sort  of  individualism  that  they  present  to-day 
(rather  than  in  the  time  of  Emerson,  or  before 
the  war  of  1861-5),  and  what  is  precisely  the 
type  of  idealism  toward  which  they  are  tending  ? 
In  each  of  these  directions  we  find  something 
specifically  American,  for  at  both  view-points 
the  American  is  the  product  of  a  particular 
growth,  due  to  particular  conditions  of  existence 
so  well  described  by  M.  Rodrigues  in  his  first 
chapter. 

First  of  all,  as  regards  American  individual 
ism,  it  is  little  developed  in  precisely  those 
domains  in  which  that  of  the  Frenchman  has 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

made  the  most  advance:  in  moral,  social,  and 
aesthetic  subjects.  Without  doubt,  when  the 
American  drew  up  his  political  constitution  he 
laid  claim,  at  first  for  himself,  and  later  for  his 
slaves,  to  the  individual  rights  of  the  citizen 
carried  to  their  extreme  consequences;  without 
doubt  he  has  developed  industry  and  commerce 
by  means  of  an  individual  competition  which 
has  shown  itself  harsh  and  pitiless;  without 
doubt  he  demands  for  every  one,  and  he  grants 
to  every  one,  liberty  and  equality  of  condition 
in  matters  of  education,  commerce,  and  indus 
try.  On  all  these  points  his  individualism  is 
only  too  evident.  In  morals  he  was  content  in 
the  beginning  to  adopt  integrally  the  puritan 
and  evangelical  models  of  Great  Britain.  In  his 
attitude  toward  law  he  has  unceasingly  shown 
the  docility  and  simplicity  of  the  colonist,  held 
to  submit  himself  to  an  absolute  constabulary 
authority;  and  as  to  his  sentiments,  while  propa 
gating  the  precepts  of  a  narrow  religious  aus 
terity,  he  has  merely  exaggerated  the  sanctions 
attached  to  public  opinion  and  local  prejudices. 
In  everything  that  concerns  social  responsibility 
and  moral  conduct  the  American  is  a  blind  col- 
lectivist,  excessively  scrupulous  and  intolerant, 
and  with  that  a  religious  absolutist. 

Strangely  enough,  instead  of  judging  his  re- 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION 

ligion  by  his  morality,  he  does  precisely  the  op 
posite.  To  the  American  in  general  the  sanc 
tions  of  morality  are  almost  exclusively  religious; 
he  seeks  them  in  the  ipse  dixit  of  Holy  Scripture. 
Thus  one  of  the  most  solid  ramparts  of  the 
South  in  the  Civil  War  was  the  support  which 
Bible  texts  afforded  to  ministers  in  justifica- < 
tion  of  the  institution  of  slavery.1  There  is  a 
current  adage:  "Morality  without  religion  is 
vain."  2  In  matters  of  art  these  factors  are 
still  complicated  with  coarseness  of  taste  due 
to  a  lack  of  education. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  American  this  "collec 
tivism"  and  "legalism"  admit  of  no  exception, 
any  more  than  they  allow  of  personal  favors,  ex 
cept  in  the  domain  of  business  obligations.  The 
principle  has  remained  true  to  the  present  time 
for  the  great  captains  of  industry  and  the  mag 
nates  of  commerce;  in  business  necessity  knows 
no  law,  and  force  creates  right.  But  at  the 
same  time  these  very  men  have  vigorously  held 
to  the  text,  "Avoid  every  appearance  of  evil," 
and  personally  yielded  with  the  most  scrupulous 
punctuality  to  all  the  rigors  of  moral  and  re- 

1  The  chastity  expected  of  young  men,  of  which  M.  Rodrigues  speaks, 
is  based  upon  religion;    every  sexual  connection  outside  of  conjugal 
relations  is  prohibited  as  being  tainted  with  sin. 

2  When  appearing  to  suggest  that  the  contrary  is  true  in  the  United 
States,  I  think  that  M.  Rodrigues  overestimates  the  importance  of  the 
non-religious  part  of  the  population. 


INTRODUCTION  xxvii 

ligious  conformity.  To  play  dominoes,  attend 
a  concert,  go  into  the  country  for  pleasure  on 
a  Sunday,  was  to  expose  oneself  to  public  op 
probrium,  as  many  persons  over  twenty  years 
of  age  may  perfectly  recall  to  mind,  and  even 
many  who  have  not  yet  reached  that  age.  In 
certain  of  the  largest  denominations,  whose 
numerous  members  may  be  found  almost  every 
where,  to  dance,  play  cards  or  the  lottery, 
drink  wine  or  beer,  are  acts  which,  without 
always  being  the  object  of  official  reprobation, 
are  none  the  less  condemned  by  imperious 
public  opinion  as  things  "of  this  world,"  and 
"irreligious." 

In  this  regard  the  nation  is  still  Anglo-Saxon. 
The  country  was  subjected  to  the  imprint  of 
that  rigidity  of  moral  judgment  and  "legalism" 
of  social  sanctions  of  which  British  tradition 
affords  the  most  striking  examples.  Puritan 
models  reign  supreme  in  art,  literature,  the 
theatre,  and  daily  life.1 

This  tendency  to  "legalism,"  to  the  search 
in  legal  statutes  for  a  universal  panacea  for  all 
ills  and  abuses,  even  at  the  price  of  the  sacrifice 

1  Though  it  may  be  true  that  as  to  temperament  the  American  may 
not  be  more  Anglo-Saxon  than  French  (M.  Rodrigues  says  that  he  is 
less  so,  p.  14),  when  we  consider  the  social  factors  of  the  national  cul 
ture-Amoral  beliefs,  religious  faith,  language,  law-traditions,  practices — 
we  must  maintain  that  American  life,  even  to-day,  is  much  more  closely 
related  to  that  of  the  Anglo-Saxons. 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

of  individual  rights  and  privileges,  no  doubt 
comes  in  the  first  place  from  British  tradition; 
but  it  has  been  reinforced  by  two  specific  influ 
ences:  first,  the  conditions  under  which  Ameri 
can  institutions  were  developed,  and  next,  the 
political  duality  of  allegiance  of  the  American 
citizen. 

The  early  colonial  settlements  insisted,  at 
first  in  the  Eastern  States,  and  later  in  those  of 
the  centre  and  in  the  "Far  West,"  upon  the 
vigorous  maintenance  of  rules  already  rigorous 
in  themselves,  and  at  the  same  time  the  relin- 
quishment  of  individual  liberties  in  the  face  of 
the  exigencies  of  internal  order  and  collective 
defense.  Justice  was  rendered  with  an  iron 
hand,  for  the  individual  did  not  count  when 
the  good  of  the  community  was  in  danger. 

Later,  in  view  of  the  great  independence  of 
the  several  States  with  respect  to  the  national 
government  (an  independence  emphasized  by 
M.  Rodrigues),  the  individual  found  himself 
plunged  into  all  sorts  of  uncertainties  and  am 
biguities  on  the  subject  of  his  rights  and  duties. 
He  ran  up  against  the  laws  on  all  sides,  laws 
often  themselves  conflicting,  one  overriding  the 
other,  and  very  frequently  inapplicable.1  The 

1  It  is  difficult  for  me  to  agree  with  M.  Rodrigues  when  he  seems  to 
say  (p.  147)  that  conflicts  between  State  and  national  governments 
have  never  led  to  an  appeal  to  force.  The  Civil  War  of  1861-5  is 


INTRODUCTION  xxix 

result  is  that  the  law,  the  legal  statute,  becomes 
an  instrument  of  reform,  of  repression,  of  prog 
ress.  The  American  demands  that  a  law  be 
voted,  and  imagines  that  he  has  done  his  whole 
duty.  Now  as  this  complex  of  laws,  State  and 
national,  is  subject  to  the  influence  of  a  puri- 
tanistic,  and  often  injudicious,  morality,  one 
may  easily  imagine  the  confusion  that  results. 

Each  State  seeks  to  surpass  the  other  States, 
to  show  itself  more  "Christian,"  less  "cove 
nanting  with  evil,"  to  appear  more  "progres 
sive"  than  its  neighbors.  National  legislators 
are  urged  to  be  not  less  "advanced,"  with  the 
fine  result  that  most  ill-prepared  and  least-con 
sidered  measures  are  proposed  in  Congress  and 
often  passed,  at  the  risk  of  being  abrogated  by 
the  Supreme  Court  as  unconstitutional. 

In  the  past  few  years  this  kind  of  legislation 
has  entered  the  industrial  domain — that  in 
which,  it  must  be  admitted,  the  need  of  reform 
has  been  most  keenly  felt — and  in  certain  cases 
has  paralyzed  the  active  factors  of  the  economic 
life  of  the  country.  The  "muck-rakers"  have 

precisely  the  result  of  such  a  conflict — a  conflict  between  the  rights  of 
States  (right  to  secession)  and  of  the  Federal  Union.  It  was  settled  by 
arms.  Other  menacing  situations  have  arisen  from  conflicts  of  juris 
diction:  for  example,  the  right  of  the  Japanese  in  California  to  attend 
the  public  schools  of  that  State  by  virtue  of  a  national  treaty;  the  right 
of  the  national  government  to  maintain  order  by  force  in  a  particular 
State;  the  right  of  extradition;  the  regulation  of  commerce  between 
the  States,  etc. 


xxx  INTRODUCTION 

scented  abuses  everywhere,  and  the  State  legis 
lators  made  every  effort  to  outrun  one  another 
in  a  headlong  race  toward  a  so-called  "regu 
lation"  of  great  enterprises.  The  "trusts," 
whether  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  have  been 
prosecuted;  the  railways  have  been  shackled 
and  oppressed  by  arbitrary  measures,  such  as  the 
fixing  of  tariffs,  the  limitation  of  combinations 
inter  se,  and  the  prohibition  of  certain  forms  of 
investment,  until  at  last  a  real  crisis  has  para 
lyzed  the  business  of  transportation.  Prepara 
tions  for  the  present  war  are  paying  the  price  of 
all  this  "virtuous"  legislation1  to  which  the  in 
dustry  of  yesterday  and  the  day  before  has  been 
subjected. 

It  is,  therefore,  not  only  in  the  social  and 
moral  life  of  the  United  States  that  individual 
ism  is  little  developed.  The  fresh  and  vigorous 
power  of  initiative,  so  justly  pointed  out  by  M. 
Rodrigues,  has  also  been  enfeebled  by  the  ener 
vating  and  sterilizing  fever  of  moralization  of 

1  Among  examples  of  this  ill-considered  legislation  are:  the  "Beveridge 
child  labor  law,"  the  "Mann  law"  on  the  white-slave  traffic,  the  vari 
ous  extreme  measures  taken  in  the  interest  of  prohibition  or  in  behalf 
of  feminism.  The  two  great  political  parties  outvie  one  another  in 
suggestions  more  advanced  than  those  of  the  "Progressive"  party  itself. 
The  "initiative,"  the  "referendum,"  the  "recall  of  judges"  are  proposals 
of  this  sort.  As  M.  Rodrigues  points  out,  there  is  no  country  in  the 
world  where  such  measures  are  less  to  be  desired.  The  country  needs  a 
really  conservative  party,  as  a  makeweight  against  all  this  governmental 
interference,  whether  State  or  national,  in  private  affairs  and  social 
life. 


INTRODUCTION  xxxi 

the  country  through  the  great  increase  of  legis 
lative  measures. 

Even  to-day  this  aspect  of  American  affairs 
is  still  striking,  though  somewhat  less  apparent. 
I  think  it  ought  to  be  mentioned  because  it 
indicates  an  orientation  which  has,  perhaps,  not 
been  sufficiently  brought  to  light  by  the  author. 
No  doubt  this  tendency,  in  matters  of  commerce 
and  industry,  does  correct  real  abuses  of  a  far 
too  self-seeking  individualism,  and  when  kept 
within  due  limits,  does  produce  results  on  the 
whole  salutary  for  the  country. 

As  for  the  idealism  which  must  be  recognized 
in  Americans,  it  is,  as  M.  Rodrigues  very  well 
says,  in  a  large  measure  unconscious.  It  is  an 
effort  toward  success,  realization,  creation;  an 
effort  inspired  by  the  idealistic  motives  of  jus 
tice  and  duty.  It  is  not  consciously  directed 
toward  an  end,  but  acts  by  virtue  of  an  inward 
impulse,  in  which  force  and  right  are  mingled, 
the  individualistic  instincts  of  the  business  man 
side  by  side  with  the  puritan  conscience. 

In  this  sort  of  idealism,  as  in  his  individualism, 
the  American  shows  the  defects  of  his  qualities. 
He  is  restless,  absorbed,  unreflecting;  an  in 
complete  creature.  He  has  little  time  for  per 
sonal  culture,  and  little  taste  for  it;  the  tran- 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION 

quil  joys  of  family  life  and  communion  of  spirit 
in  the  calm  realm  of  art  touch  him  little.  His 
traditional  seventh  day  of  reflection  is  now  en 
tirely  claimed  by  the  Sunday  newspaper,  with 
its  fifty  to  a  hundred  pages  of  sensational  news. 
All  this  produces  in  him  an  unfortunate  "fluid 
ity"  of  mind,  manifested  in  that  "motor  type" 
which  unceasingly  demands  a  panorama  of 
things  to  see,  and  which,  in  fact,  sees  none  of 
them.  He  has  no  specialty  outside  of  his  busi 
ness,  is  interested  in  nothing,  knows  not  what  to 
do  with  his  leisure.  His  vacations  bore  him, 
his  recreations  wear  on  his  nerves,  the  approach 
of  old  age  terrifies  him.  When  at  last  he  re 
tires  from  business,  he  suffers  frightfully  from 
lack  of  occupation,  and  finally  returns  to  busi 
ness  in  order  to  "die  in  the  harness."  One  can 
not  be  surprised  at  the  amazement  of  Matthew 
Arnold,  or  the  wonder  of  Pierre  Loti,  the  former 
coming  from  the  peaceful  home  of  classical  Eng 
lish  literature,  the  other  from  the  torpor  and 
dreamy  contemplation  of  the  Orient,  on  finding 
themselves  plunged  into  this  maelstrom  of  en 
ergy,  set  in  motion  by  a  mechanism  which,  in 
their  eyes,  was  without  basis,  significance,  or 
value. 

Thence  follows  another  trait,  the  eminently 
superficial  character  of  many  aspects  of  Ameri- 


INTRODUCTION  xxxiii 

can  life.  On  all  sides  "haste  makes  waste." 
Everything  is  done  by  steam,  on  the  spur  of 
the  minute,  and  for  immediate  use.  The  trav 
eller  is  struck  by  the  wooden  buildings,  the 
fragile  bridges,  the  provisional  character  of  the 
arrangement  of  all  sorts  of  material;  studious 
men  are  impressed  by  a  like  haste,  a  like  absence 
of  foundation,  in  American  teaching,  research, 
and  education.  The  American  makes  something 
that  will  "do  the  business,"  expecting  to  re 
place  it  to-morrow.  Each  type  of  machine, 
automobile,  bicycle,  must  present  a  new  model 
every  year,  showing  some  modification  or  claim 
ing  to  be  an  improvement.  "New  things"  are 
constantly  demanded,  "new  thought,"  a  "new 
educational  method,"  the  "new  woman,"  the 
"new  freedom"  —and  this  in  matters  in  which 
that  which  has  value  is  not  new,  and  that  which 
is  new  has  no  value.  Change  becomes  the  sign 
of  progress. 

Politically,  the  American  ideal  sins  by  short 
ness  of  view  and  lack  of  precision.  The  Con 
stitution,  wisely  interpreted  by  the  Supreme 
Court,  has  become  the  breviary  of  political 
truth  and  the  charter  of  political  rights.  But  the 
practical  predominance  of  "States'  rights"  up 
to  the  Civil  War,  and  the  tradition  of  national 
isolation  vaguely  formulated  by  the  Monroe 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION 

Doctrine,  have  produced  a  certain  lukewarmness 
in  national  interests,  and  a  certain  apathy  with 
respect  to  international  matters.  Hence  re 
sults  a  remarkable  popular  heedlessness  joined 
to  an  almost  exclusive  preoccupation  with  per 
sonal  and  internal  affairs.  As  M.  Rodrigues 
says,  a  national  conscience  as  such  hardly  exists 
except  in  times  of  crisis.  The  national  device 
E  pluribus  unum  would  better  read  IN  pluribus 
unum,  insisting  more  strongly  upon  the  plurality 
of  the  States  than  upon  the  unity  of  the  nation. 

Furthermore,  this  feeble  national  sentiment 
has  been  nothing  less  than  strengthened  by  the 
presence  of  a  great  mass  of  foreigners,  but  partly 
assimilated,  and  drawn  to  the  country,  not  like 
the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  by  motives  of  conscience, 
but  entirely  by  selfish  motives  and  the  desire  for 
profit.1 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  this  indifference  to 
national  interests,  a  remarkable  impulse  toward 
unification  and  the  fusion  of  States  has  mani 
fested  itself,  especially  since  1865.  I  do  not 
believe  there  is  a  single  country,  approaching 
ours  in  extent,  where  there  is  so  little  real  "sec 
tionalism,"  in  the  sense  of  local  differences  in 
customs,  sentiments,  fundamental  religion,  and 

1 1  think  I  ought  here  to  add  these  reasons  to  those  which  M.  Rod 
rigues  has  given  (chap.  Ill,  sec.  3,  The  Union),  for  the  inadequacy  of 
the  national  sentiment. 


INTRODUCTION  xxxv 

philosophy  of  life.  Everything,  even  to  the 
pressure  exercised  by  the  practical  and  eco 
nomical  affairs  of  the  country,  has  contributed 
to  this  result.  In  its  industry,  its  civic  organi 
zation,  its  internal  relations  of  all  sorts,  as  in 
its  language,  customs,  and  manners,  the  country 
gives  proof  of  a  surprising  unity.  Upon  this 
point  I  think  that  in  certain  passages  of  his  book, 
for  example,  the  one  in  which  he  compares  the 
United  States  to  a  "boarding-house"  rather 
than  a  "home,"  M.  Rodrigues  goes  too  far.1  No 
doubt  the  American  often  changes  his  street, 
his  city,  or  his  State,  but  this,  to  him,  is  simply 
to  change  his  room  in  the  house;  he  still  keeps 
his  address  "America."2 

As  for  the  Constitution,  its  general  character 
and  essential  lack  of  precision  make  it  an  ad 
mirable  instrument  of  constitutional  develop 
ment  in  the  hands  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
The  judges  are  divided  into  "strict  construc- 

1  See  also  the  comparison  of  the  States  with  centrifugal  forces. 

2 1  should  love  to  comment  upon  the  author's  remarkable  discussions 
of  the  President  and  the  Constitution,  but  space  is  wanting.  Perhaps 
he  esteems  the  constitutional  power  of  the  President  beyond  its  worth, 
for  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  Senate  can  neutralize  his  veto,  and  the 
Supreme  Court  can  maintain  a  law  that  has  been  vetoed.  The  President 
has  no  right  to  introduce  a  bill  directly,  and  when  his  party  has  only  a 
small  majority  in  Congress,  his  indirect  initiative  (by  means  of  a  leader 
of  his  party)  may  meet  with  difficulties,  or  even  prove  abortive.  A 
comparison  of  the  President  with  the  Pope  is  not,  in  all  respects,  happy, 
for  the  President's  influence  is  popular  and  moral,  in  its  origin  as  in  its, 
sanctions,  and  not  autocratic  or  theocratic. 


xxxvi  INTRODUCTION 

tionists"  and  "free  constructionists  " ;  these  last, 
among  whom  was  the  great  jurist  John  Marshall, 
bring  to  new  questions  the  spirit  rather  than 
the  letter  of  the  document,  and  give  successive 
decisions  which,  taken  as  a  whole,  form  the 
great  body  of  American  constitutional  law. 
Once  rendered,  a  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court 
has  the  authority  of  a  precedent. 

The  duty  of  the  judge  in  the  lower  courts  is 
not  to  decide  upon  the  validity  of  the  constitu 
tions,  whether  of  State  or  nation  (as  M.  Rod- 
rigues  appears  to  indicate),  but  simply  to  inter 
pret  and  apply  them  with  other  laws.  Appeal 
upon  the  ground  of  constitutionality  of  a  law  or 
a  decision  is  always  possible;  but  such  appeal 
must  be  brought  before  the  Supreme  Court.  In 
the  case  of  a  new  law  the  ordinary  procedure  is 
as  follows:  a  person  or  a  society  intentionally 
violates  the  new  law,  in  order  to  be  prosecuted 
under  this  head.  This  establishes  a  "test  case," 
which  obliges  the  court  to  utter  a  decision. 
Some  of  the  most  important  decisions  in  the 
annals  of  American  jurisprudence  have  been 
obtained  by  means  of  such  "test  cases." 

Concerning  international  matters  the  Ameri 
can  manifests  a  very  marked  political  docility; 
he  is  always  ready  to  follow  the  President.  The 
American  people  have  never  failed  to  respond 


INTRODUCTION  xxxvii 

to  a  direct  and  energetic  appeal  from  Washing 
ton  in  a  matter  of  foreign  politics.  In  the 
present  war,  of  the  two  hypotheses  formulated 
by  M.  Rodrigues  (pp.  157  and  186),  the  second 
appears  to  me  more  just  than  the  first;  by  this 
I  mean  that  he  is  correct  in  saying  that  if  the 
President  had  not  decided  upon  war  the  nation 
might  have  remained  neutral;  but  not  in  saying 
that  "the  President  had  great  difficulties  to 
overcome  in  winning  the  country  to  the  idea  of 
intervention."  The  truth  appears  to  me  to 
have  been  at  once  finely  and  truly  expressed  by 

a  writer  in  a  French  newspaper:  "Mr. , 

according  to  all  appearance,  contributed  to  en 
lighten,  as  to  the  true  character  of  the  conflict, 
the  mind  of  the  President,  upright,  methodical, 
but  badly  informed  on  European  matters."  1 
In  the  interest  of  a  correct  historic  documenta 
tion  I  may  here  call  to  my  support  the  opinion  of 
a  prominent  New  York  newspaper,  which  thus 
indicates  the  factors  in  the  American  decision: 
"in  the  first  place  the  best  minds  in  the  country 
convinced  the  people,  then  both  acting  together, 
and  aided  by  the  Germans,  convinced  the  Presi 
dent." 

Thus,  the  portrait  drawn  in  this  book  faith 
fully  reproduces,  in  my  opinion,  the  features  of 

1 R.  C.,  Journal  des  Dtbats,  August  8,  1917. 


xxxviii  INTRODUCTION 

the  American,  especially  as  he  was  in  the  pre 
ceding  generation.  As  to  the  defects  of  the 
Americans,  insufficient  command  of  their  en 
ergy,  a  too  exclusively  practical  character,  a 
too  conventional  morality,  a  too  utilitarian  and 
pragmatic  conception  of  existence — if  I  raise  all 
these  points  here  it  is  to  show  why  we  Americans, 
while  accepting  the  praise  of  M.  Rodrigues, 
should  fall  into  no  error  as  to  its  meaning. 

The  author  marvellously  brings  out  the 
method  of  the  American  people  when  he  says 
that  their  idealism  is  concrete  and  "schemat 
ic,"  not  "conceptual."  All  these  words  from 
his  pen  are  terms  of  a  rigorously  precise  psy 
chological  signification. 

The  psychology  of  the  experimental  and 
"schematizing"  imagination  is  the  following: 
it  is  that  type  of  imagination  which  consists  in 
making  current  use  of  what  one  supposes,  as  if 
it  had  been  established.  Men  treat  hypotheti 
cal  propositions  as  if  they  were  true;  mere 
probabilities  as  if  they  had  already  been  veri 
fied;  fictitious  images  as  if  they  had  been  con 
firmed  by  facts;  concrete  peculiarities  as  if  they 
were  universal.  They  directly  make  use  of  all 
these  "schematic"  ideas  and  images,  yielding 
themselves  to  them  in  all  confidence.  The  act 
reveals  how  much  they  are  worth.  The  agent 


INTRODUCTION  xxxix 

makes  no  lament  over  his  dreams,  does  not  stop 
to  correct  his  erroneous  conjectures,  but,  gather 
ing  in  his  successes  in  hot  haste,  and  passing 
over  the  failures,  plunges  again  into  the  whirl 
pool  of  life.  His  progress  is  real,  but  experi 
mental,  empirical,  pragmatic.  He  never  goes 
to  the  bottom  of  the  details  of  a  situation ;  they 
do  not  interest  him.  Thus  he  never  attains 
to  the  concept,  the  universal  idea  established  and 
brought  to  the  point. 

And  so  on  indefinitely.  The  man  of  action 
is  forever  throwing  the  dice  and  gathering  in 
the  gains  of  the  gambler.  His  preferred  method 
being  experimentation  by  action,  the  greater 
number  of  American  discoveries  are  found  in 
the  domain  of  practical  invention. 

This  psychological  method  is  recognized  by 
the  lack  of  equilibrium,  the  poverty  of  reflec 
tion,  and  the  incomplete  culture  of  the  great 
generality  of  Americans.  They  have  only  one 
means  of  improving  upon  it:  let  them  learn  to 
think  by  the  aid  of  adequate  concepts,  to  cor 
rect  and  complete  their  hasty  and  truncated 
"instantaneous  views"  of  life  and  things.  The 
American  should  set  himself  to  study  his  errors, 
his  failures,  to  put  himself  in  the  position  of  the 
spectator  of  the  result  of  his  efforts,  to  consider 
the  "why"  and  "why  not"  of  this  and  that,  as 


xl  INTRODUCTION 

well  as  he  has  learned  the  "how  to  do"  one 
thing,  and  "how  not  to  do  "  another.  He  should 
learn  to  love  the  universal,  the  truth  and  the 
beauty  of  which  the  schematic  image  is  only  a 
happy  approximation,  even  when  it  chances  to 
be  correct. 

Hence  the  extreme  importance  for  the  Ameri 
can  of  a  close  contact  with  the  older  and  more 
reflecting  cultures  of  Europe,  which  his  tempera 
ment  enables  him  to  appreciate,  but  from  which 
the  force  of  circumstances  has  kept  him  too  long 
apart.  French  culture,  the  culture  of  the  coun 
try  which  has  made  the  most  profound  criticism 
of  art  and  of  life,  and  the  largest  generalizations 
in  the  political  order,  which  has  the  most  pa 
tiently  tested  the  worth  of  scientific  hypotheses, 
which  is  capable  of  the  most  marvellous  clarity 
of  explanation,  by  itself  alone  sufficient  to  dis 
sipate  obscurity  and  put  confusion  to  flight— 
this  culture  will  give  new  vigor  to  the  wonder 
ful  means  of  intellectual  perfecting  which  to-day 
are  so  strongly  rooted  in  the  soil  of  the  United 
States — to  those  great  private  universities,  those 
foundations  for  scientific  research  and  for  pure 
science,  those  luminous  directing  personalities, 
more  numerous  every  year,  who  commend  and 
who  practise  the  reflective  life.  For  it  is  some 
thing  extraordinary  to  see  with  what  a  true  in- 


INTRODUCTION  xli 

stinct  the  resources  of  art,  of  literature,  and  of 
science  are  now  put  to  profit  by  Americans. 

As  to  their  intellectual  productiveness,  the 
rank  which  the  United  States  now  occupies  in 
art,  science,  and  literature  is  not,  by  universal 
consent,  lower  than  fourth  among  all  the  na 
tions  of  the  world. 

To  these  fortunate  influences  will  soon  be 
added  those  which  will  issue  from  the  war. 
The  influences  of  this  war  upon  the  United  States 
will  be  considerable  both  from  the  political  and 
the  moral  point  of  view.  They  will  tend  to 
correct  one  of  the  defects  which  I  have  pointed 
out,  the  lack  of  unity  and  strength  in  the  na 
tional  sentiment,  the  absence  of  a  definite  po 
litical  tendency. 

After  the  war  we  shall  no  longer  see  the  na 
tion  groping  for  an  international  political  faith, 
nor  satisfying  with  vague  and  purely  negative 
maxims  of  isolation  and  indifference  its  great 
desire  to  play  its  part  in  the  world.  It  will 
have  felt  the  impulse  of  a  national  mission,  an 
impulse  which  responds  to  the  pulses  of  the 
great  arteries  of  the  common  life  of  the  world. 
Never  again  will  the  name  American  be  the 
synonym  of  neutrality  based  upon  economic 
interests,  complacent  ignorance,  and  egotistic 
ambition  at  a  time  when  the  moral  value  of 


xlii  INTRODUCTION 

human  liberty  and  the  rights  of  man  are  at 
stake. 

The  political  ideal  of  the  Frenchman,  "free 
dom  guided  by  insight"  (la  liberte  guidee  par  la 
raison — it  is  in  these  words  that  I  define  it), 
and  the  Englishman's  ideal  of  vigorous  moral 
enthusiasm  will  both  find  in  America  a  soil  pre 
pared  to  receive  the  seeds  of  the  future  alliance 
of  free  peoples,  an  alliance  to  which  the  United 
States  will  bring  as  a  tribute  their  mediatizing 
conception:  "Liberty  armed  with  law." 

J.  MARK  BALDWIN, 

Corresponding  Member  of  the  Institute. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  FRENCH 
EDITION 

IT  is  my  wish  to  point  out  here  the  reasons 
that  led  me  to  write  this  book. 

First  of  all,  I  have  desired  to  do  justice  to  a 
great,  a  very  great  people,  too  often  misunder 
stood  even  by  those  who  most  admire  them. 
If  they  are  great  materially,  they  are  greater 
still,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  them,  morally 
and  ideally.  Not  having  found  the  way  to 
penetrate  their  outer  shell,  few  of  us  have 
reached  their  soul. 

Upon  this  soul  I  have  sought  to  throw  light. 
I  have  not  so  much  tried  to  make  it  understood 
as  to  give  an  intuition  of  it,  for  it  does  not 
speak  to  the  intelligence;  it  is  an  emotional, 
impulsive  soul,  at  whose  touch  we  ourselves 
must  in  some  sort  be  moved.  I  have  tried,  so 
far  as  I  have  myself  found  it  through  the  works 
of  writers,  the  acts  of  statesmen,  and  especially 
through  the  ardor  which  carries  along  this  whole 
people,  to  tune  myself  to  their  diapason,  and  if 
possible  to  bring  into  the  same  accord  those  who 
may  be  led  to  read  these  pages. 

xliii 


xliv  PREFACE 

It  is  a  fresh,  new  soul.  Above  all  else  in  love 
with  reality,  it  retains  only  such  thoughts  as 
lead  to  action.  But  it  faces  life  with  an  ardor, 
an  impetuosity  which  is  an  example  and  a  les 
son  to  our  refined  and  somewhat  weary  men 
tality,  a  lesson  of  energy  which,  on  the  morrow 
of  this  war,  Europe  will  need  for  her  regenera 
tion. 

In  fact,  I  have  most  of  all  at  heart  to  show 
what  we  may  expect  of  America.  For  I  believe 
that  the  services  which  she  will  render  to  us 
will  be  immense. 

I  am  not  speaking  merely  of  her  military 
measures,  which  surpass  our  most  daring  fore 
casts,  nor  of  the  support  of  her  forces,  which 
will  be  decisive.  Not  to  say  that  her  coming  to 
the  relief  of  the  French  troops  who  for  more  than 
three  years  had  been  standing  in  the  breach, 
taking  her  share,  her  large  share,  of  the  common 
sacrifice,  is  a  noble  act;  it  is  more;  it  is  sym 
bolic,  and  it  brings  to  mind  another.  After  a 
century  and  a  half  General  Pershing  has  come 
to  help  us  form  the  United  States  of  the  World 
as  General  Lafayette  went  to  contribute  to  the 
formation  of  the  United  States  of  America. 
The  important  thing  is  first  to  conquer;  but 
afterward  and  especially  to  organize  humanity. 
The  part  of  America  in  the  war  appears  great, 


PREFACE  xlv 

but  that  which  she  is  called  to  play  in  the  peace 
of  to-morrow  is  unprecedented. 

What  that  to-morrow  will  be  no  one  can  say 
with  certainty.  But  what  it  will  not,  what  it 
must  not,  be  we  already  know.  It  must  not  be 
like  yesterday.  This  war  can  have  no  other 
issue  than  a  total  and  definitive  winding  up  of 
the  past.  In  the  eyes  of  future  historians  the 
twentieth  century  will,  no  doubt,  appear  as  one 
of  those  decisive  epochs  in  which  a  world  van 
ishes  and  a  new  world  takes  its  place.  Per 
haps  it  will  be  the  era  of  emancipation  in  which 
civilization  will  have  forever  triumphed  over 
barbarism.  For  the  time  being,  at  least,  as 
profound  a  revolution  will  have  occurred  as 
that  which  the  introduction  of  Christianity 
accomplished  for  men.  Through  carnage  and 
massacres,  over  heaps  of  ruins  and  piles  of  dead 
bodies,  humanity  discerns  and  with  utmost  de 
sire  summons  peace,  final,  immutable  peace,  or 
ganized  by  justice  and  in  liberty. 

An  immense  hope  has  passed  over  the  earth. 

But  that  this  hope  shall  become  a  reality,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  proceed  to  a  complete  re 
casting  of  the  world.  For  this  it  will  not  suffice 
to  work  over  the  map  of  the  globe,  to  substitute 
frontiers  of  Right  for  those  of  Force.  Man  as 
a  whole  must  be  inwardly  transformed.  A  new 


xlvi  PREFACE 

human  type  must  be  created,  as  different  from 
the  so-called  civilized  man  that  we  know  as 
the  latter  is  from  the  savage  or  the  caveman. 
Every  notion  of  war,  of  territorial  ambition,  of 
violence  done  to  the  liberty  of  peoples,  must 
vanish  from  our  minds.  In  short,  the  man 
must  come  into  being. 

A  gigantic  task,  perhaps,  the  work  of  a  long 
time,  but  by  no  means  a  Utopian  task.  And 
of  this  task  America,  by  the  organ  of  its  Presi 
dent,  has  had  a  clear  vision,  proclaiming  at  the 
same  time  her  inflexible  resolution  that  it  shall 
be  performed.  The  programme  that  she  brings 
us  is  a  programme  of  definitive  pacification  and 
universal  brotherhood.  While  repeating  what 
from  her  birth  she  has  not  ceased  to  say  to  us, 
"America  for  Americans,"  "Europe  for  Euro 
peans,"  she  now  adds,  "Humanity  for  man." 

Who,  better  than  she,  has  the  right  so  to 
speak?  Is  not  her  whole  history,  her  brief  his 
tory,  the  effort  first  to  set  free  and  then  to 
develop  the  human  personality?  Has  she  not 
subordinated  everything  to  this  end?  Where 
else  does  the  individual  find  greater  possibilities 
of  realization,  whether  in  himself,  in  his  spirit 
emancipated  by  education  in  liberty,  or  all  about 
him  in  the  free  family,  the  free  State,  the  free 
Union?  The  United  States  of  America  is  the 


PREFACE  xlvii 

only  nation  in  the  world  which  has  not  had  to 
break  its  own  chains  (save  those  of  the  slaves  of 
the  South,  and  to  do  this  she  rose  up  against  her 
self),  for  with  her,  and  only  with  her,  man  has 
always  been  a  citizen,  never  a  subject. 

It  is  true  that  this  people,  like  all  others,  has 
its  defects,  and  they  are  great;  its  solutions  of 
continuity,  and  they  are  enormous.  An  unfin 
ished  but  incomparable  nation,  it  has  produced 
a  type  of  man  which  is  incomplete,  but  also 
incomparable.  What  matters  all  that  for  the 
time  being  he  lacks,  so  long  as  he  has  at  his 
disposal  the  means  of  acquiring  it?  While 
every  effort  of  autocratic  and  despotic  Germany 
is  to  stifle  the  man  in  us,  leaving  alive  only  the 
animal  with  his  instinct  for  pleasure,  and  the 
slave  with  his  habit  of  submission,  that  of  Amer 
ica  is,  on  the  contrary,  according  to  Auguste 
Comte's  fine  expression:  "To  free  our  humanity 
from  our  animality." 

This  is  what  she  is  bringing  to  the  world,  the 
hope,  no,  the  assurance,  of  human  emancipa 
tion.  This  is  the  profound  significance  of  her 
joining  in  the  struggle.  This  is  what  will  pro 
long  her  effort  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  war. 
This  is  why,  this  is  wherein  she  appears  as  a 
great  idealistic  force,  which  proposes  that  its 
ideal  shall  not  remain  a  beautiful  dream,  but  is 


xlviii  PREFACE 

putting  forth  a  gigantic  effort  to  make  of  it  a 
near  and  effective  reality. 

But  to  this  general  human  interest,  which  I 
have  found  in  bringing  to  light  the  real  physi 
ognomy  of  America  and  the  part  which  she 
seems  to  me  to  be  called  to  play,  is  added  in 
my  eyes  a  more  direct  and  immediate  interest 
for  us  Frenchmen. 

Our  two  countries  seem  to  me  to  be  called  to 
understand  one  another;  I  would  add,  to  love 
one  another.  There  are  between  them  closer  af 
finities  than  between  any  other  two  nations  of  the 
Entente.  Both  are  the  countries  of  the  Right. 
Both  have  made  the  human  individual  the  end 
of  human  society.  Both  have  made  an  effort 
to  realize,  not  merely  to  proclaim,  the  grand 
Republican  device,  "Liberty,  Equality,  Fra 
ternity."  Both,  finally,  have  always  believed 
that  on  the  triumph  of  their  ideal  depends  at 
once  the  welfare  of  their  country  and  the  pros 
perity  of  the  human  race. 

In  the  course  of  my  work  I  have  more  than 
once  had  occasion  to  point  out  one  or  another 
of  these  points  of  contact  between  us.  They, 
on  their  side,  have  also  felt  themselves  nearer 
to  us  than  to  our  allies.  If  they  are  loyally 
united  to  all  of  them,  they  are  something  more 
for  us:  they  are  the  friends  of  France. 


PREFACE  xlix 

At  the  time  of  the  late  visit  of  the  French 
Mission  to  the  United  States,  in  the  midst  of 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  popular  ovations,  an 
American  thus  exquisitely  expressed  the  senti 
ment  with  which  we  inspired  them:  "France 
is  the  sweetheart  of  the  world."  America  does 
not  propose  to  let  her  heart  cease  to  beat.  She 
knows  too  well  that,  France  dead,  the  world 
would  perish. 

She  proposes  even  more:  so  to  perform  that 
her  heart  shall  beat  more  strongly  than  ever, 
that  its  pulsations,  for  a  little  while  weakened, 
shall  again  throb  with  a  generous  influx  of 
newly  quickened  blood.  She  is  ready,  with  all 
her  strength,  to  help  us  work  toward  the  eco 
nomic  reinstatement  of  our  country,  our  incom 
parable  country,  which  has  passed  through  so 
many  crises,  always  to  come  forth  more  valiant, 
with  energies  newly  tempered  by  trial. 

Thus  between  us  and  them  is  being  prepared 
the  creation  of  something  more  and  better  than 
an  alliance,  an  intimacy.  They  had  somewhat 
forgotten  us,  during  these  latter  years;  let 
us  perform  our  mea  culpa,  we  had  somewhat 
caused  ourselves  to  be  forgotten  by  them;  we 
had  somewhat  too  much  forgotten  ourselves. 
The  long  peace  which  for  them  had  been  so  full 
of  activity  had  been  for  us  too  idle  and  empty. 


1  PREFACE 

They  had  almost  forgotten  the  colors  of  our 
flag,  which  they  hardly  ever  saw  flying  in  their 
seaports.  But  how  we  found  ourselves,  and 
found  one  another,  in  the  hour  of  danger ! 
After  the  Marne,  Verdun  revealed  us  to  them  as 
a  people  no  longer  to  be  suspected.  We  amazed 
them,  compelling  them  to  recognize  that  which 
is  the  fundamental  genius  of  our  race,  our 
faculty  of  revivification. 

This  is  the  genius  of  our  race,  and  also  of 
theirs.  We,  France  and  America,  are  the  two 
great  creative  Powers.  Creation  is  with  us 
more  intellectual:  we  bring  forth  an  idea  and 
sow  it  broadcast  through  the  world;  they,  more 
crude  and  materialistic,  deluging  their  own 
country  and  the  whole  world  with  their  products, 
while  producing  them  have  caused  the  idea  to 
spring  forth.  But  neither  they  nor  we  are 
plagiarists  and  imitators,  peoples  who  follow. 
The  discoveries  of  both  of  us  are  drawn  from 
our  own  capital,  not  borrowed  or  stolen  from 
others.  France  has  her  Pasteur,  America  her 
Edison.  What  names  can  Germany  put  face 
to  face  with  these? 

We  are,  therefore,  made  to  understand  and 
to  complete  one  another.  Let  us  ask  of  America 
her  vigor  and  competitiveness,  and  in  exchange 


PREFACE  li 

let  us  give  her  our  culture  and  the  "sweetness" 
which  she  has  recognized  in  us.  Let  us  refine 
her  and  let  her  virilize  us. 

In  order  to  do  this,  on  both  our  parts,  our 
effort  should  tend  to  strengthen  and  multiply 
our  relations.  Let  there  be  between  us  a  series 
of  exchanges  of  all  kinds,  intellectual  as  well  as 
material.  Happy  results  in  this  direction  have 
already  been  obtained.  The  United  States  have 
heard  the  voices  of  a  few  of  our  university 
men,  and  they  have  enabled  us  to  hear  the 
voices  of  theirs.  But  this  is  only  a  first  step. 
We  must  create  common  organs,  and  even  more, 
perhaps,  centres  of  common  thought,  and  this 
in  all  domains,  in  commerce,  in  industry,  in  the 
press,  in  the  university.  On  the  morrow  of  the 
war  "American  tours"  must  be  organized  for 
our  French  students,  and  "French  tours"  for 
the  students  of  America.  There  must  be  a 
thorough  penetration  and,  so  to  speak,  con 
stant  impregnation  of  these  two  peoples,  one 
by  the  other.  This  is  the  work  of  to-morrow 
which  it  behooves  us  to  enter  upon  even  to 
day. 

Dare  I  say,  in  closing,  that  it  is  partly  in  the 
dream  of  such  a  work  that  I  have  written  this 
book?  If  here,  and  perhaps  over  there,  I  may 


lii  PREFACE 

have  inspired  a  few  hearts  with  the  desire  of 
undertaking  it,  I  shall  deem  myself  lavishly 
paid  for  my  labor,  and  shall  judge  that  my 
effort  will  not  have  been  useless. 

G.  R. 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 


CHAPTER   I 

AMERICA  AND  THE  CONDITIONS 
OF  ITS  EXISTENCE 

PREJUDICE  AGAINST  THE  UNITED  STATES.— 
AMERICAN  REALISM  AND  IDEALISM 

A  "ERIC  A  has  been  twice  discovered:  phys 
ically  by  Christopher  Columbus,  mor 
ally  with  President  Wilson.  And  the 
second  discovery  was  no  less  unexpected,  nor 
is  it  less  valuable,  than  the  first. 

Popular  imagination  lives  upon  legend:  Amer 
ica  is  a  fabulous  Eldorado;  the  Yankee  is  a 
materialist,  eager  for  gain,  his  mind  closed  to 
every  generous  idea;  a  "dollar-hunting  animal," 
a  money-making  machine  to  whom  all  methods 
are  good.  If  people  work  hard  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Atlantic  their  labor  is  mechanical 
and  with  no  outlook.  The  United  States  is  an 
immense  workshop;  the  prodigious  activity 
there  manifested  is  exercised  for  the  gratifica 
tion  of  crude  and  elementary  instincts. 

This  rather  too  simple  picture  has  the  defects 
of  a  caricature  without  its  good  qualities;  it 


4  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

distorts  what  it  portrays.  It  gives  no  sugges 
tion  of  the  still  more  formidable  moral  energy 
which  gives  impulse  to  this  formidable  accumula 
tion  of  physical  energy.  There  is,  indeed,  a 
prodigious  industrial  activity  in  the  United 
States,  but  it  is  set  in  motion  by  an  idea,  and 
is  placed  at  the  service  of  an  idea.  In  the 
American  we  must  see,  not  a  materialist  eager 
for  enjoyment;  he  is  very  precisely  the  con 
trary,  an  idealist  in  search  of  results.  In  fact, 
there  is  no  productive  realism  without  a  latent 
idealism.  In  order  to  realize  there  must  be 
first  a  conception,  a  spirit  of  invention,  a  taste 
for  research,  a  desire  for  the  better,  underneath 
all,  a  sense  of  the  ideal. 

But  it  must  be  confessed  that  this  ideal  is 
different  from  ours;  it  is  original,  unexpected, 
well  adapted  to  disconcert  the  mind  of  a  French 
man  or  a  European.  To  understand  it  we  must 
do  violence  to  our  prepossessions  and  try  first 
of  all  to  place  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  the  very 
special  conditions,  unknown  to  previous  history, 
which  presided  at  the  birth  of  the  United  States. 
These  conditions  we  shall  endeavor  to  bring  to 
light. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE      5 


HISTORIC  CONDITIONS 

The  United  States  have  no  historic  past. — Their  freedom  from 
national  hatred. — Colonial  origins. — Subordination  and 
elimination  of  the  indigenous  element. — Immigration  and 
the  juxtaposition  of  races. — No  English  hegemony. — 
America  not  Anglo-Saxon. — American  patriotism. — Fed 
eralism  and  particularism. — The  "faculty  of  absorption" 
of  the  United  States. — The  American  patrie  in  process  of 
becoming. 

America  is  a  new  country,  that  is  to  say,  a 
country  without  a  past,  and  by  so  much  with 
out  a  history.  It  has  enjoyed  the  privilege— 
for  it  is  one — of  having  been  from  birth  open  to 
civilization  without  having  known  barbarism. 
There  is  nothing  like  it  in  our  Old  World,  for 
the  very  reason  that  it  is  old.  Upon  Europe 
lies  a  heavy  weight,  the  glorious  burden  of  cen 
turies. 

Glorious  burden,  we  say,  for  the  past  survives 
itself  in  the  present,  and  bars  the  way  to  the 
future.  In  every  domain,  intellectual,  political, 
social,  national,  and  international,  the  forces  of 
conservatism,  not  to  say  of  reaction,  rear  them 
selves  before  the  forces  of  progress.  It  becomes 
necessary  to  destroy  before  building. 

The  United  States  have  nothing  to  destroy. 
They  came  into  being,  as  their  true  creator  him- 


6  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

self  acknowledged,  at  a  "fortunate  moment."1 
"The  formation  of  our  empire  dates  back,  not 
to  a  dark  period  of  ignorance  and  superstition, 
but  to  an  epoch  when  the  rights  of  the  human 
race  were  better  understood  and  more  clearly 
defined  than  at  any  earlier  time."2  Every 
thing  smiled  upon  their  dawn,  the  works  of 
philosophers  and  legislators,  the  culture  of 
letters,  the  development  of  education,  the  ex 
tension  of  commerce,  the  transformation  of 
industry.  America  was  born  with  civilization. 

Consequently,  she  has  avoided  the  three 
snares  which  we  deem  the  most  threatening. 
She  knows  nothing:  1,  of  national  hatred  of  rival 
nationalities ;  2,  of  moribund  forms  of  govern 
ment,  more  or  less  infected  with  the  virus  of 
autocracy;  3,  of  antiquated  methods  of  production. 
She  knows  nothing  of  what  we  may  term  "the 
European  uneasiness."  In  our  old  Europe  the 
modern  states  are  not  sufficiently  modernized. 
Their  efforts  at  emancipation  take  the  method 
of  violent  agitation :  with  the  outer  world,  wars ; 
at  home,  revolutions,  either  political  or  indus 
trial,  and  by  that  fact  social. 

Let  us  imagine,  on  the  other  hand,  a  privileged 
nation,  coming  into  existence  at  the  very  time 
when  the  physical  progress  of  science  and  the 

1  Quoted  from  Washington,  by  J.  Fabre,  Washington,  p.  256. 

2  76.,  p.  256. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE     7 

intellectual  progress  of  the  human  mind  have 
made  a  clean  sweep  of  routines  and  prejudices. 
Let  us  grant  to  it,  with  the  inexperience  of 
youth,  all  its  freshness,  its  illusions,  and  its  ardor 
for  the  fray.  It  rises  with  a  bound  to  the 
point  to  which  other  peoples  have  attained  only 
by  slow  and  painful  effort.  Well,  such  a  nation 
exists,  and  its  name  is  the  United  States.  Em 
erson  recognized  it.  "The  new  conditions  of 
humanity  in  America  are  really  favorable  to 
progress,  to  the  elimination  of  absurd  restric 
tions  and  ancient  illegalities."1 

First  of  all,  America  knows  nothing  of  na 
tional  hatreds.  Two  reasons  may  be  given  for 
this :  she  is  not  face  to  face  with  another  people 
with  whom  to  fight;  she  is  herself  a  people  in 
the  way  of  perpetual  formation  and  transforma 
tion,  rather  than  a  people  already  formed. 

America  does  not  know  what  a  foreigner  is. 
She  began  by  being  a  colony.  Now,  in  a  colony 
there  are,  properly  speaking,  no  foreigners; 
there  are  only  natives  and  colonists.  The  lat 
ter,  whencesoever  they  have  come,  soon  forget 
their  origin  and  merge  themselves  into  a  society. 
As  for  the  native,  not  only  is  he  excluded,  he  is 
hardly  considered  to  be  a  man. 

Now,  the  foreigner  is  a  man  like  ourselves; 
if  we  have  a  quarrel  with  him  we  settle  it  by 

1  Emerson,  Essays. 


8  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

arms.  We  treat  him  as  an  enemy,  that  is  to 
say,  up  to  a  certain  point  an  equal.  For  even 
war  itself,  however  it  may  substitute  the  rule 
of  fact  for  the  rule  of  law,  is  not  without  some 
legal  character.  The  proof  of  this  is  that  the 
vanquished  is  treated  with,  not  exterminated. 
He  was  the  hostis  of  the  Romans,  who  even  in 
defeat  still  preserved  a  personality,  a  legal 
character. 

Nothing  of  the  sort  prevails  with  the  native, 
our  "savage,"  the  equivalent  of  the  ancient 
barbaris.  With  him  is  recognized  no  law,  how 
ever  minimized;  he  is  a  thing  and  not  a  person. 
Consequently  he  is  treated  as  such,  is  considered 
as  a  means,  not  an  end.  Negro  or  redskin,  he 
is  a  slave,  a  "living  tool,"  to  be  subjugated  and 
expropriated.  The  very  principle  of  coloniza 
tion  is  that  the  native  is  not  an  equal.  And 
even  in  our  days,  though  slavery  is  legally  abol 
ished,  colonial  wars  are  still  fundamentally  dis 
tinct  from  wars  between  civilized  men.  Whence 
comes  the  revolt  which  the  present  proceedings 
of  Germany  has  aroused  in  the  universal  con 
science  ?  Essentially  from  this  one  fact,  that 
she  treats  her  civilized  adversaries  as  if  they 
were  savages,  and  the  nations  of  Europe  as  if 
they  were  colonies. 

Now,   when   planting  itself  in  America  the 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE     9 

white  race  came  in  contact  with  no  foreigners 
with  whom  to  fight.  There  was  a  struggle,  but 
not  of  one  nation  against  another  nation,  but 
of  a  nation  against  savages.  The  native  has 
always  been  looked  upon  as  an  outlaw,  and  has 
very  soon  been  made  an  out-life,  if  the  word 
may  be  coined.  Almost  everywhere  he  has  dis 
appeared.  The  few  fragments  of  the  original 
race  which  yet  remain  represent  only  the  small 
est  fraction  of  the  population  of  the  United 
States.  Pushed  back  and  enclosed  in  a  corner 
of  the  immense  territory  of  the  Union,  they 
form,  from  every  p'oint  of  view,  a  negligible 
quantity.  As  for  the  negroes  imported  from 
Africa,  if  we  find  them  in  swarms  in  the  South 
ern  States,  there  enjoying  in  theory  the  same 
social  and  political  rights  as  the  whites,  it  is  well 
known  that  in  fact  they  are  reduced  to  impo 
tence,  and  in  all  places,  at  the  theatre,  on  the 
railroad  and  the  tramway  are  separated  from  the 
real  Americans  as  by  a  water-tight  compart 
ment.  Even  if  the  feebler  race  that  originally 
peopled  the  territory  of  the  United  States  had 
survived,  they  would  have  been  practically  an 
nihilated,  as  in  India  or  Africa,  by  the  emprise 
of  the  stronger  race.  The  expropriation  would 
not  have  been  less  thorough. 

Thus    the    civilized    men    who    have    spread 


10  THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

themselves  over  North  America  as  a  drop  of 

011  spreads,   have    nowhere  encountered   other 
groups  of  civilized  men  constituted  as  a  nation. 
Their  very  wars,  most  rare  from  this  fact,  have 
a  special  character  all  their  own.     The  War  of 
Independence  was  waged  against  a  tyrant,  the 
War  of  Secession  against  fellow  citizens.     Both 
of  them,  the  first  hardly  less  than  the  second, 
were  civil  rather  than  national  wars.     And  take 
it  all  in  all,  the  young  America,  instead  of  being, 
like  the  old  Europe,  an  enclosed  field  for  com 
bat,  has  seemed  from  its  earliest  hours  to  be  a 
free    field,  clean-swept  for  the  exercise  of  all 
activities. 

A  second  and  even  more  favorable  condition 
existed  at  the  beginning,  and  by  a  happy  and 
continually  recurring  chance  has  been  main 
tained  throughout  the  entire  life  of  the  New 
World,  so  brief  as  it  has  been.  There  was  not, 
there  is  not  now,  and  doubtless  there  never 
will  be,  in  the  United  States  the  overlordship  of 
a  dominant  race,  subordinating  to  itself  the 
fragmentary  elements  of  other  and  less  numer 
ous  peoples.  There  was,  there  still  is,  from  all 
directions  an  influx  of  European,  not  to  say  of 
world,  energies:  English,  French,  Italian,  Japa 
nese,  Irish,  Polish,  Russian  Jew,  etc.,  at  first 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    11 

settling  down  side  by  side,  then  mingling,  near 
the  Atlantic  shores  or  on  the  plains  of  the  Far 
West.  And  if  by  this  procedure  the  United 
States  have  come  to  bear  a  slight  resemblance 
to  the  Tower  of  Babel,  this  only  proves  that  the 
Tower  of  Babel  had  its  good  points. 

In  fact,  these  simultaneous  or  successive  lay 
ers,  even  when  for  a  time  they  retained  their 
original  physiognomy,  never  clashed,  but  rather 
harmonized  as  they  settled  side  by  side.  It 
cannot  be  said  that  they  blended,  but  rather 
that,  on  the  whole,  they  developed  along  paral 
lel  and  relatively  independent  lines.  Falling 
into  a  rhythm  which  is  that  of  American  life 
itself,  they  mutually  adapted  themselves  to  one 
another,  and  became,  as  it  were,  cemented  to 
gether.  They  geared  themselves  together  like 
the  wheels  of  an  immense  machine,  complicated 
yet  pliable,  and  became  one.  They  do  not  blend 
like  streams  which  mingle  their  waters  and  are 
lost  in  one  river;  it  is  somewhat  characteristic  of 
America  that  its  several  parts  preserve  each  its 
own  character  while  receiving  the  common  im 
print  of  the  whole.  Independence  and  inter 
dependence  of  intertangled  yet  distinct  elements 
appears  to  be  the  law  that  rules  this  complex 
which  is  the  United  States. 


12          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

The  irruption  continues,  the  incessant  influx 
of  immigrants  permits  none  of  the  groups  to 
consolidate  and  take  precedence  of  the  others 
in  economic  or  political  power.  America  is  the 
product  of  these  sporadic  efforts;  it  appears  to 
be  a  sort  of  vortex  into  which  penetrate  and  are 
carried  along  currents  of  circulation  coming 
from  all  directions,  each  of  which  falls  into  the 
general  movement,  making  its  own  way  among 
the  others  while  carried  along  with  them,  all  in 
the  progress  of  the  whole.  Order  automatically 
creates  itself  in  this  chaos  by  virtue  of  that 
power  of  absorption  which  in  some  manner 
snatches  up  each  individual  as  he  passes  and 
agglomerates  him  with  the  whole.  These  re 
peated  impacts,  these  recurring  collisions,  little 
by  little  disintegrate  the  groups  which  on  their 
arrival  were  national,  and  blend  their  human 
material  into  a  new  and  more  compact  mass, 
from  which  emerges,  or  rather  from  which  will 
emerge,  the  American  nation. 

Not  that  the  tie  with  the  original  fatherland 
of  each  is  broken.  In  this  new  country,  still  in 
fermentation,  it  abides  longer  than  in  the  more 
unified  European  nations.  But  it  is  looser, 
more  supple.  The  embrace  of  the  American 
country  is  strong  because  it  is  unceremonious. 
It  seizes  upon  its  man  and  will  not  let  him  go. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    13 

Even  the  visiting  foreigner  barely  escapes  it. 
Huret  had  been  only  a  few  days  in  New  York 
when  he  felt  himself  won  over  by  his  surround 
ings.  "This  country's  power  of  absorption  is 
so  great,"  he  says,  "that  I  am  already  in  the 
way  of  becoming  an  American."1  The  desire 
of  merging  oneself  into  a  group  of  his  national 
affinity  is  felt  here  more  strongly  than  else 
where,  but  it  is  an  instinct  of  self-preservation 
from  a  flood  which  is  carrying  him  along  by  its 
suction.  One  clings  to  the  old  country  all  the 
more  ardently  as  he  is  the  more  rapidly  won 
over  by  the  new.  One  remains  partly  French, 
English,  Italian,  while  becoming  wholly  Ameri 
can.  The  very  Germans  cannot  help  being 
Americanized,  in  spite  of  themselves,  and  this 
not  in  the  long  run,  but  in  a  relatively  short 
time.  And  thus  we  finally  see  a  number  of 
insulated  groups,  somewhat  analogous  to  those 
which  in  our  country  are  formed  by  associations 
of  men  originally  from  the  Somme  or  from  Lot- 
et-Garonne;  they  are  still  somewhat  Picards, 
somewhat  Gascons,  and  entirely  Frenchmen. 

Race  in  America  has,  therefore,  a  character 
all  its  own.  It  depends  not  upon  origin,  but 
upon  result.  Therefore  nothing  is  more  errone 
ous  than  the  belief  in  an  Anglo-Saxon  America. 

1  Huret,  De  New  York  d,  la  N ouvelle-Orteans,  p.  3. 


14          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

The  only  European  people  with  whom  the  Amer 
ican  people  can  be  compared  is  our  own.  Not 
that  there  is  much  French  blood  in  their  veins 
—there  are  only  a  few  drops  of  it — but  because, 
like  French  blood,  American  blood  is  the  result 
of  a  mixture,  and,  as  Renan  has  said,  the  "mixed 
bloods"  are  the  freshest,  the  youngest,  the  rich 
est.  Admit  all  the  differences  that  you  will — 
and  they  are  immense — there  is  something  in 
common  between  American  and  Gallic  activity, 
between  the  indomitable  energy  of  the  Yankee 
and  the  furia  francese.  It  is  more  and  better 
than  affinity  of  race;  it  is  similarity  of  tempera 
ment.  Both  nations  are  melting-pots. 

Let  us  add  that  distance,  far  from  setting  the 
various  States  of  America  in  opposition.9  has 
drawn  them  together.  Precluding  friction,  it 
has  at  the  same  time  prevented  their  develop 
ment  into  rival  nations,  and  has  effected  a 
welding  instead  of  a  mixture.  In  the  early  days 
vast  spaces  were  open  to  colonization.  Groups 
of  emigrants  scattered  themselves  in  every  di 
rection.  Deserts  often  lay  between  these  con 
geries  in  process  of  formation.  There  were  no 
such  continual  interchanges  as  occur  every  day 
from  one  end  of  France  or  of  England  to  the 
other.  Peculiarities  are,  therefore,  more  marked 
here  than  in  Europe.  Each  group,  consuming 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE     15 

what  it  produces,  and  producing  what  it  con 
sumes,  takes  upon  itself  a  local,  personal, 
sharply  defined  character.  Thus  there  are  not 
States  within  the  state — we  shall  see  that  the 
word  State  has  no  meaning  to  an  American — 
still  less  nations  within  the  nation,  but  au 
tonomous  organizations,  somewhat  similar  in 
their  several  proportions  to  the  little  Greek 
republics  of  antiquity,  with  their  special  consti 
tutions  and  their  distinctive  habits.  The  essen 
tial  difference  is  that  America  is  not  a  country, 
but  a  world.  The  city  or  the  district  is  formed 
by  the  juxtaposition  of  individuals;  the  State 
by  the  juxtaposition  of  cities  or  districts,  the 
Union  by  the  juxtaposition  of  States.  The  tie 
is  rather  federal  than  national,  or  rather,  nation 
ality  is  here  understood  only  under  the  form  of 
federation. 

As  a  result  there  are  at  once  fewer  resem 
blances  and  fewer  competitions  among  neigh 
boring  groups.  In  this  America,  which  began 
by  being  a  mosaic  (and  which  has  not  entirely 
ceased  to  be  one),  interests  are  various  but  easily 
become  solidary;  in  Europe,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  are  analogous  and  strongly  opposed.  The 
various  European  nations,  confined  in  narrow 
territories,  stifling  within  their  frontiers,  live 
always  upon  a  war  footing,  even  in  times  of 


16          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

peace.  The  United  States,  at  large  upon  their 
immense  continent,  hardly  knowing  what  a 
frontier  properly  is,  in  a  country  where  the 
boundaries  of  States  are  drawn  by  a  plumb-line 
like  the  checker-board  streets  of  their  towns, 
having  in  their  recent  past  few  bloody  memories 
and  few  germs  of  conflict,  are  before  all  else 
preoccupied  with  themselves,  and  mutually 
concern  themselves  little  with  their  respective 
destinies.  But,  when  occasion  occurs,  they  are 
prompt  to  unite  upon  any  matter  of  interest, 
urged  not  so  much  by  a  sentiment  of  patriotism, 
at  least  not  at  the  outset,  as  guided  by  the  pre 
caution  of  the  business  man.  It  is  a  marriage 
of  reason,  not  of  inclination.  Issuing  from  a 
"hodge-podge"  of  multicolored  elements,  they 
constituted  themselves  on  the  principle  of  every 
man  for  himself,  and  when  they  agreed  to  unite, 
individuals  and  groups  of  individuals  added 
themselves  together  like  the  units  of  a  sum, 
rather  than  organized  themselves  like  the  mem 
bers  of  a  living  body. 

Their  unity,  at  least  their  original  unity,  is 
then  more  external,  though  not  more  artificial, 
than  that  of  the  nations  of  the  Old  World.  It 
consists  above  all  in  a  series  of  interchanges, 
a  sort  of  economic  mutual  aid,  rather  than  in  a 
totality  of  common  aspirations.  The  latter  are 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    17 

slow  to  come,  and  even  to  this  day  have  not 
been  completely  formulated.  At  the  very  least, 
communion  of  thought  first  arises  from  a  com 
munity  of  interests.  In  their  case  it  lacks — if 
this  be  not  quite  as  much  a  good  quality  as  a 
fault — the  two  features  of  what  may  be  called 
the  ancient  patriotism.  America  knows  noth 
ing  of  that  offensive  and  defensive  patriotism 
which  is  born  of  the  sentiment  of  envy  or  the 
sense  of  danger,  for  she  has  no  territorial  am 
bition,  and  therefore  is  a  menace  to  no  one; 
and  not  believing  herself  to  be  an  object  of 
foreign  covetousness  (up  to  the  present  time, 
at  least)  has  felt  herself  menaced  by  no  one. 
Neither  has  she,  or  but  imperfectly,  what  may 
be  called  internal  patriotism,  resulting  from  a 
common  origin,  a  long  tradition  which  each  one 
cherishes  for  himself,  for  his  fireside,  his  home, 
for  she  was  born  of  yesterday,  formed  of  dis 
similar  elements  drawn  from  the  four  corners 
of  the  globe;  to  those  who  tread  her  soil  she 
does  not  as  yet  afford  the  intimacy  of  a  home 
or  the  warmth  of  a  fireside.  The  European 
lives  in  his  house;  the  American  builds  his. 
To  the  inhabitant  of  the  United  States  his 
country  is  still  somewhat  of  a  "boarding-house." 
In  the  matter  of  patriotism  as  in  all  else,  America 
is  a  new  country. 


18          THE  PEOPLE   OF  ACTION 

But  it  would  be  profoundly  unjust  to  conclude 
from  this  that  the  national  sentiment  is  less 
strong  here  than  elsewhere.  It  is  different,  more 
poignant  still,  perhaps,  because  it  is  younger 
and  less  consolidated.  Like  most  of  the  senti 
ments  of  this  effervescent  mass,  it  is  in  the  way 
of  perpetual  becoming,  and  incessant  realization. 
It  is  a  patriotism  which  is  "being  made,"  and 
not  a  "ready-made"  patriotism.  To  the  Ameri 
can  the  patrie  is  not  behind  him  in  a  venerated 
past,  it  is  before  him,  in  a  future  which  he 
foresees  and  is  helping  to  bring  into  being. 
"Go  ahead  !"  The  old  device  is  truer  here  than 
anywhere  else.  The  American  is  moving  toward 
his  patrie,  and  creating  it  by  the  very  movement 
in  which  he  seeks  for  it. 

Thus  we  should  not  ask  him  too  insistently 
what  he  loves  in  his  homeland,  for  he  would  be 
somewhat  embarrassed  to  tell  you.  Our  Euro 
pean  patries  have  fixed  contours,  a  physiognomy 
long  ago  determined.  We  love  them  as  the 
child  loves  the  long-familiar  features  of  the 
mother  who  gave  him  life.  Contrariwise,  the 
American  patrie,  born  but  yesterday,  is  still  in 
process  of  formation.  The  American  bends 
over  her  as  the  mother  over  her  new-born  child, 
seeking  to  distinguish  in  her  vaguely  sketched 
features  the  form  that  they  will  take  to-morrow. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE     19 

He  is  conscious  that  she  is  his  work,  that  she 
comes  forth  from  him  rather  than  he  from  her. 
His  patrie  is,  more  than  anything  else,  a  will  to 
be,  a  part  of  his  own  will,  a  hope  rather  than  a 
reality,  and  a  hope  to  be  realized.  He  will 
realize  it.  That  is  his  true  reason  for  being. 

Thus,  from  each  autonomous  group,  and 
from  each  individual  in  each  group,  springs  an 
impulse  which  contributes  to  the  making  of  the 
nation.  America  is  itself  that  impulse.  She 
is  going  forward.  Whither?  The  question  is 
without  meaning.  She  is  going,  without  ask 
ing  herself  toward  what  end,  for  that  will  be  de 
termined  as  she  realizes  herself.  The  philoso 
phy  of  William  James,  that  metaphysician  of 
action,  that  of  M.  Bergson  in  France,  all  doc 
trines  of  liberty  and  indetermination,  help  us 
to  understand  her.  America  is  a  sort  of  "Crea 
tive  Evolution,"  great  with  all  possibilities 
without  expressly  pursuing  any  one.  She  pro 
duces  for  the  sake  of  producing,  and  in  order  to 
produce  herself,  as  the  effect  of  a  superabun 
dance  of  life,  of  an  overabundance  of  energy, 
which  feels  the  need  of  expending  itself.  To 
make  something  new,  and  to  make  herself  new, 
these  are  her  faith  and  her  force.  Her  move 
ment  does  not  follow  a  road  already  traced; 
the  road  traces  itself  as  the  movement  goes  on. 


20          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Furthermore,  it  is  not  a  case  of  one  uniform, 
unilinear  movement.  The  "vital  impulse"  is 
not  a  single  push,  made  once  for  all.  It  has  its 
source  in  a  multitude  of  individual  energies, 
not  concerted,  not  even  recognizing  one  another, 
upspringing  from  all  sides,  exploding  in  every 
direction.  The  progress  of  America  is  compara 
ble  to  that  of  a  huge  rocket  in  its  flight  heaven 
ward,  throwing  off  sparks  at  every  point  of  its 
course.  Each  parcel  of  flame  may  represent 
one  of  those  individual  wills  whose  whole  forms 
the  luminous  trail. 

No  symbol  could  be  better  chosen  to  represent 
the  United  States  than  the  starry  flag.  The 
unity  of  America  is  that  of  the  Milky  Way,  a 
long  train  of  distinct  stars  carried  along  in  a 
single  movement,  and  united  in  one  vision. 

II 

POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 

The  United  States  have  no  political  past. — The  original  democ 
racy  and  autonomy. — Ignorance  of  autocracy  and  cen 
tralization. 

There  is  another  reason  for  the  rapid  progress 
achieved  by  the  United  States.  America  did 
not,  like  Europe,  pass  gradually  from  barbarism 
to  civilization.  "America  was  discovered  after 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    21 

the  extinction  of  the  feudal  disease,  so  that  the 
people  had  a  good  point  of  departure"1  She  did 
not  have  to  grope  her  way  amidst  accumulated 
obstacles.  "The  great  advantage  of  the  Ameri 
cans  is  to  have  arrived  at  democracy  without 
having  to  suffer  democratic  revolutions,  and  to 
have  been  born  equals  instead  of  becoming  such"'2' 
They  are  an  adult  people  who  were  never  chil 
dren.  America  was  born  a  major  and  not  a 
minor. 

In  consequence  America  escaped  the  condition 
of  tutelage  which  has  weighed  so  heavily  upon 
all  other  nations.  Everywhere  else  there  has 
been,  and  there  still  is,  a  conflict  between  gov 
ernors  and  the  governed.  Such  a  conflict  in 
America  would  have  no  sense. 

In  fact,  in  the  strict  meaning  of  the  term, 
there  are  neither  governors  nor  governed  there; 
there  is  a  people  that  governs  itself,  or  rather — 
for  the  term  would  be  incorrect — that  directs 
its  own  affairs.  The  act  by  which  America  was 
constituted  was  an  act  of  independence,  of  the 
emancipation  of  the  governed  from  the  gov 
ernors,  of  "self-government,"  or  rather  of  the 
rejection  of  all  government.  America  affirmed 
herself  as  a  union  of  free  peoples,  more  jealous 

1  Emerson,  Essays. 

2  De  Tocqueville,  De  la  Democratic  en  Amerique,  II,  p.  236. 


22          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

of  their  liberties  than  of  their  union.  This  pro 
tects  that.  Americans  associate  themselves  in 
order  to  increase  and  guarantee  their  autonomy, 
not  to  abdicate  it. 

To  escape  from  government  is,  for  America, 
to  escape  from  despotism,  since  she  was  under 
subjection  to  a  foreign  Power.  But,  while 
shaking  off  the  detested  yoke,  she  had  no  in 
tention  of  placing  herself  beneath  another. 
United,  but  not  unified,  States  were  formed. 
Each  State  preserves  its  sovereignty,  its  liberty 
and  independence,  and  every  power,  jurisdic 
tion,  and  right  which  is  not  expressly  delegated 
by  this  confederation  to  the  United  States  in 
Congress  assembled.1  In  its  first  intention  the 
republic  was  to  be  simply  a  police  against  for 
eign  Powers.  Now  all  that  is  asked  of  the 
police  is  protection,  not  direction.  Men  keep 
watch  against  its  interference  in  matters  of 
private  life.  The  States  kept  watch  against  its 
intervention  in  affairs  of  public  life.  They  pro 
posed  to  direct  themselves.  In  this  sense  there 
was  not,  and  even  at  the  present  day  there 
hardly  is,  anything  like  government  in  the 
United  States. 

It  results  that  autocracy,  that  legacy  of  the 
past  and  open  wound  of  Europe,  that  source  of 

1  Constitution  of  1777,  Art.  2. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    23 

foreign  wars  and  intestine  dissensions,  represents 
nothing  to  an  American.  He  does  not  know 
what  it  is  to  have,  or  to  have  had,  a  master. 
The  danger,  the  mere  idea,  of  a  despot,  or  even 
of  sovereignty,  cannot  occur  to  the  mind  of 
citizens  who  are  all  free  and  all  equal,  belong 
ing  to  free  and  equal  States.  They  know  the 
power,  not  of  the  man,  but  of  the  law;  "liberty 
armed  with  law."  *  The  sole  authority  which 
they  respect  is  that  of  their  Constitution,  and 
their  Constitution  is  themselves.  It  expresses 
the  primitive  "social  contract,"  the  adhesion, 
both  individual  and  unanimous,  which  created 
them,  so  to  say,  a  collective  moral  person.  It 
soars  above  all  and  every  one,  above  laws  and 
legislators.  The  precarious  will  of  changing  ma 
jorities  breaks  itself  against  its  immutable  pre 
scriptions.  Right  is  above  fact. 

The  popularity  of  a  single  man  will  never  be 
dreaded,  for  it  cannot  encroach  upon  individual 
liberties.  The  President  of  the  republic  is  en 
dowed  with  plenary  powers,  for  it  is  intended 
that  the  executive  should  have  a  free  hand,  and 
not  be  at  any  moment  subject  to  the  questiona 
ble  control  of  the  Houses.  But  his  powers  are 
very  precisely  those  of  the  president  of  the  ex 
ecutive  committee  of  a  joint-stock  company, 

1  Les  £tats-Unis  et  la  France.     Address  by  J.  M.  Baldwin,  p.  167. 


24          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

held  to  render  account  to  the  stockholders  who 
nominated  him.  Elected  by  the  people,  he 
speaks  to  the  people.  In  the  United  States  a 
parliament  is  useless  to  represent  public  opin 
ion;  in  case  of  need  public  opinion  can  express 
itself,  not  by  intermediaries,  but  directly  by 
itself.  It  is  not,  as  in  the  Germany  of  to-day, 
or  in  the  czarist  Russia  of  yesterday,  a  merely 
apparent  power,  to  be  despised  or  put  down; 
nor  even  as  in  France,  and  especially  in  Eng 
land,  a  power  to  be  manipulated,  and  with  which 
one  must  reckon.  It  is  the  only  power  that 
counts.  The  President  is  but  the  guardian  of 
the  liberty  of  the  States. 

The  character  of  the  political  struggles  shows 
this.  There  is  no  reactionary  party  in  the 
United  States  as  in  Europe — there  is  even 
hardly  a  conservative  party.  In  fact,  there  is 
nothing  to  "restore,"  and  very  little  to  "con 
serve."  The  principal  thing  is  to  create.  There 
fore  there  is  nothing  here  that  resembles  the 
imperialistic  squirearchy  (Junkerthum)  of  Ger 
many,  that  body-guard  of  the  Kaiser;  neither  is 
there  anything  analogous  to  the  counter-revo 
lutionists  of  France,  dreaming  of  a  military  dic 
tatorship  in  default  of  an  impossible  return  to  the 
old  order.  "Democrats"  and  "Republicans" 
the  two  epithets  are  with  us  almost  synonymous 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    25 

— are  at  one  on  most  essential  points,  and  nota 
bly  since  the  Great  War  the  framework  of  both 
parties  appears  to  be  going  to  pieces.  The 
"Socialists,"  there  as  elsewhere,  but  perhaps 
less  there  than  elsewhere,  and  in  any  case  with 
less  success,  form  a  class  party.  But  if  all 
anticipate  the  future  of  their  country  differently, 
all  turn  their  eyes  toward  the  future;  none  of 
them  looks  toward  the  past.  For  all  they  will 
to  have  liberty,  are  moving  toward  liberty,  and 
"the  old  is  for  slaves." 

Our  antiquated  political  frippery  is  of  no  use 
here.  Monarchy,  czarism,  imperialism  stand 
for  no  realities  in  the  United  States;  they  are 
words  having  only  a  historic  sense.  Europe,  to 
an  American  who  crosses  the  ocean,  is  something 
like  a  museum,  an  old  curiosity-shop,  which  he 
visits  to  admire  its  relics,  and  not  to  find  an 
example.  From  the  political  point  of  view  it 
is  to  him  what  the  empire  of  Augustus  would 
be  to  us,  if  it  were  given  us  to  penetrate  into  it 
in  our  day — a  reconstituted  anachronism.  We 
produce  upon  him  the  effect  of  people  whom  his 
country  has  passed  by,  if  it  could  be  possible 
to  pass  by  those  whom  one  has  never  met  upon 
his  road.  The  idea  of  the  domination  of  a 
man,  or  a  group  of  men,  over  a  collectivity,  is 
as  foreign  to  him  as  that  of  slavery  to  us,  the 


26          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

domination  of  one  man  over  another.  In  short, 
we  are  not  living  the  same  political  life.  The 
European  moves  in  an  atmosphere  of  authority 
and  government,  as  the  American  moves  in  an 
atmosphere  of  freedom. 

It  is,  therefore,  sufficiently  difficult  for  us  to 
understand  one  another  upon  more  than  one 
point.  Our  social  life,  fixed,  regulated,  canal 
ized,  and  disciplined,  has  no  relation  to  his,  re 
laxed,  impetuous,  and  a  little  bit  anarchical. 
This  is  because  from  their  origin  the  United 
States  have  been  enfranchised  from  all  the  serv 
itudes  that  weigh  upon  us,  whether  as  realities 
or  as  survivals.  They  have  elbow-room,  and 
where  we  must  unceasingly  struggle  lest  we  fall 
back  to  the  past,  they  have  only  to  go  forward. 

Ill 

ECONOMIC  CONDITIONS 

The  United  States  have  no  economic  past. — America  was  born 
contemporaneously  with  science. — Rational  and  not  em 
pirical  character  of  American  production. — Agriculture. — 
Commerce. — Industry. — The  United  States  the  land  of 
the  new  and  of  invention. — American  pluralism. — American 
activity. 

Finally,  and  perhaps  above  all,  as  America 
has  escaped  subjection  to  governmental  au 
thority,  she  has  not  had  to  wrestle  with  eco 
nomic  routine. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    27 

Politically,  America  was  born  at  the  same  time 
as  liberty.  Economically,  she  was  born  at  the 
same  time  as  science.  She  had  the  exceptional 
good  fortune  of  coming  face  to  face  with  the 
problem  of  production  in  a  new  country  and 
with  new  methods.  The  discovery  of  steam 
and  the  War  of  Independence  were  almost 
contemporaneous.  For  the  making  of  America 
energy  would  not  have  sufficed,  a  tool  was  also 
necessary.  Man  provided  the  energy,  science 
the  tool. 

Science  in  reality  dates  from  yesterday.  To 
antiquity  and  the  Middle  Age  it  was  totally  un 
known.  In  the  seventeenth  century  it  found 
its  path  with  Bacon  and  Descartes,  and  showed 
itself  "active  in  nature  and  its  conqueror." 
But  not  until  the  nineteenth  century  did  it 
show  its  first  practical  results,  and  the  United 
States  date  from  the  nineteenth  century. 

Thenceforth  nothing  has  hindered  them,  but 
rather  everything  has  invited  them  to  apply 
the  great  scientific  discoveries  to  the  exploita 
tion  of  the  new  continent.  In  Europe,  when 
machinofacture  would  replace  manufacture,  it 
clashed  against  the  prejudices  of  some  and  the 
interests  of  others.  Peasants,  fast  bound  to 
their  bits  of  ground,  hidebound  masters,  be 
numbed  with  age-long  habit,  workingmen  threat 
ened  with  cruel  loss  of  employment,  leagued 


28          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

themselves  together  against  it,  the  first  with  all 
the  force  of  inertia,  the  others  organizing  active 
resistance.  Contrariwise  America,  poor  in  men, 
lacking  in  laboring  force,  but  rich  in  enterpris 
ing  minds,  immense  spaces,  and  inexhaustible 
natural  forces,  was  clearly  marked  as  a  land  of 
experiment  in  the  application  of  new  methods.1 
She  was  not  long  in  taking  her  place  at  the  head 
of  the  industrial  movement.  It  was  her  origi 
nality  that  she  organized,  and  organized  on  a 
large  scale,  the  substitution  of  rational  for  em 
pirical  production.  Europe,  which  had  preceded 
her  in  discovery,  could  only  follow  her,  afar  off 
and  timidly,  in  its  application. 

Her  principal  characteristics  are  largeness 
of  conception,  rapidity  of  decision,  and — in  a 
word — audacity  in  execution.  She  goes  to  her 
labor  as  a  soldier  to  the  firing-line. 

There  is  nothing  like  this  in  prudent,  deliber 
ate  Europe,  frugal  of  her  resources,  and,  partly 
by  necessity,  partly  by  habit,  doing  things  on  a 
small  scale.  Is  it  the  case  of  the  peasant,  es 
pecially  in  France?  Long  a  serf,  mercilessly 
subject  to  taxation  and  forced  labor,  he  had 
remained  fixed  upon  his  glebe,  had  "taken  root" 
there.  Freed  from  slavery,  his  ambitions  are 
still  limited  and  his  horizon  contracted.  He 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    29 

deems  himself  well  off  in  owning  the  bit  of  land 
which  he  formerly  cultivated  for  another.  And 
if  he  seeks  to  "round  out  his  property,"  it  is  by 
a  series  of  carefully  considered,  progressive 
acquisitions.  He  has  always  walked  step  by 
step.  Often  he,  the  possessor  of  a  bit  of  prop 
erty,  has  run  against  the  possessors  of  other 
bits  of  property.  Thence  have  arisen  possible 
conflicts,  possessions  within  the  bounds  of  other 
possessions,  tending  to  paralyze  initiative  and 
dissipate  effort.  As  a  consequence,  we  see  so 
much  intensive  cultivation,  the  effort  to  pro 
duce  much  from  little,  instead  of  the  attempt 
to  produce  a  smaller  proportion,  but  an  infi 
nitely  larger  total,  by  means  of  large  undertak 
ings  of  extensive  culture. 

When  the  colonist  seeks  the  American  plains 
what  does  he  find?  Immense  reaches  of  land 
without  an  owner,  offering  infinite  possibilities, 
but  nothing  to  attach  him  to  one  part  more 
than  another,  no  past  of  toil  and  sweat  to  create 
a  tie  of  affection  between  him  and  the  soil, 
making  the  man  as  much  the  possession  of  the 
soil  as  the  soil  the  property  of  the  man.  All  is 
his,  if  he  knows  how  to  take  it.  From  that 
moment  his  vision  becomes  a  vision  of  con 
quest,  of  the  future.  Faith  and  hope  arise  in 
him. 


30          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

But  there  is  everything  to  be  done,  if  not 
alone,  at  least  in  isolation,  with  little  aid.  He 
must,  therefore,  work  rapidly,  sow  large  spaces, 
bring  the  machine  to  replace  the  absent  hands. 
Production  will  be  smaller  to  the  acreage,  but 
he  can  extend  his  tillage  indefinitely.  As  a 
result,  being  less  closely  bound  to  his  glebe,  he 
becomes  less  a  "hand"  and  more  a  master  of 
enterprise.  Almost  unconsciously  he  becomes 
more  intelligent,  acquires  decision,  initiative. 
Agriculture  becomes  modernized,  industrialized. 
Model  farms  appear,  where  production  on  a  large 
scale  is  carried  on.  So  the  land  comes  to  be 
exploited  as  men  exploit  a  mine. 

Thus  a  race  is  formed.  Faculties  once  un 
dreamed  of,  or  sleeping,  come  into  play;  men 
must  needs  combine,  imagine,  take  risks,  must 
be  men  and  not  tools.  Moral  progress  goes  on 
side  by  side  with  economic  advance.  Men  who 
were  once  content  to  imitate,  now  no  longer 
hesitate  to  invent.  Possibilities  of  action  stim 
ulate  ambitions,  induce  initiatives.  Personali 
ties  and  wealth  are  created  at  the  same  time. 

The  same  is  the  case  with  commerce.  Daring 
is  easy  where  success  is  probable  and  near  at 
hand,  and  in  its  turn  success,  arousing  self- 
confidence,  encourages  new  daring.  In  the 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    31 

early  days  of  this  new  country  demand  over 
passed  supply.  A  man  came  to  a  desert  and 
founded  a  city;  he  opened  a  market  and  sold 
the  proceeds  of  his  ventures  to  the  first  comer. 
Almost  or  wholly  without  competitors,  he  was 
master  of  the  situation.  There  were  always 
needs  to  be  satisfied,  and  among  so  active  a 
race  it  was  easy  to  create  new  needs.  Thence 
arose  a  sort  of  intoxication  of  desire  to  do  better, 
or  rather,  to  do  more;  for  desire  for  quantity 
took  precedence  of  concern  for  quality.  Men 
sought  to  develop  the  largest  possible  business, 
and  of  all  sorts,  for  the  "business  man"  does 
not  specialize;  he  opens  counting-houses  and 
branches,  speculates  in  land,  in  gold,  in  coal, 
in  hogs,  in  railways,  in  securities;  everything 
is  good  to  him  if  it  enlarges  the  field  of  his  ac 
tivity  and  promises  a  profit  for  his  pains.  One 
enterprise  leads  to  another,  and  each  special 
enterprise  tends  to  develop  itself,  to  swell, 
though,  like  the  frog  in  the  fable,  it  should 
burst  in  consequence. 

Even  more  than  commerce,  industry  is  the 
chosen  field  of  American  activity,  for  it  makes 
most  visibly  evident,  in  the  most  material  form, 
the  mental  effort  from  which  it  derives  existence. 
A  guiding  thought  is  evident  everywhere,  in  the 


32          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

complexities  of  production,  in  the  accumulation 
of  merchandise,  in  the  gearing  of  machines,  in 
the  number  of  hands,  in  the  extent  of  shops. 
Here  more  than  elsewhere  the  means  are  ready 
for  whoever  will  take  them,  abundance  of  raw 
material,  wealth  hid  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
numerous  and  powerful  natural  forces,  and 
everything  in  profusion.  The  orography  of  the 
country,  its  vast  plains,  its  broad  valleys,  its 
rivers  that  are  floating  roadways,  its  lakes  that 
are  inland  seas,  facilitate  the  construction  of 
lines  of  communication  and  the  multiplication 
of  methods  of  transportation.  Doubtless  all 
these  are  nothing  without  the  individual  en 
ergy  that  sets  them  in  operation,  but  this  energy 
is  favored  by  circumstances.  The  reward  is 
within  the  hand's  reach;  it  is  sure  and  does  not 
delay  its  coming.  Every  one  is  certain  that  if 
he  labors  it  will  not  be  in  vain,  nor  for  a  doubt 
ful  or  tardy  result. 

Hence  this  industrial  fever,  this  headlong 
chase  after  the  dollar.  Hence  these  incessant 
changes  and  this  multifold  production.  A  rail 
road  is  built,  a  station,  around  the  station  a 
few  cheap  houses,  to-morrow  it  is  a  city,  the 
day  after  to-morrow  a  metropolis.  Monster 
cities,  Pittsburgh,  Chicago,  Denver,  are  spon 
taneous  creations,  sometimes  almost  artificial. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    33 

For  that  matter  they  are  little  other  than  work 
shops  and  factories.  Competition  arises  in  the 
same  or  a  neighboring  city.  Each  manufac 
turer  must  do  better  than  the  other,  and  better 
here  means  more  and  more  rapidly.  Therefore 
he  is  keen  on  the  scent  of  the  slightest  improve 
ment;  when  he  finds  a  simpler  machine,  suc 
ceeds  in  doing  away  with  a  useless  movement, 
he  scraps  the  old  and  still  useful  machines,  and 
puts  in  new  that  are  almost  sumptuous.  He 
has  gained  a  few  minutes,  and  that  is  enough, 
for  a  little  time  means  much  money. 

Produce  and  replace;  this  is  the  rhythm  of 
American  industry,  and  also  of  American  life, 
replacing  products  and  the  means  of  production. 
Automobiles  are  made  by  the  hundred,  in  series, 
as  in  Europe  not  even  bicycles  are  made.  They 
are  worth  what  they  are  worth,  and  they  will 
last  while  they  last — what  matters  how  long? 
Underselling,  waste,  they  can  afford;  that  is 
life;  a  life  intensely  external,  so  to  speak, 
gushing  out  from  every  pore,  extracted  from 
oneself  and  spread  all  abroad.  Production  and 
consumption  are  multiplied  at  the  same  time, 
with  no  attempt  to  establish  a  cautious  and 
petty  equilibrium  between  the  two;  both  are 
pushed  to  the  extreme,  to  infinitude. 

This  apparent  disorder  conceals  an  idea:  to 


34          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

"go  ahead"  more  and  more  daringly;  to  dis 
count  the  future  while  hustling  and  urging  on 
the  present.  We  perceive,  then,  the  direction 
in  which  we  must  seek  the  American  ideal:  we 
shall  find  it  in  action  and  not  in  thought.  The 
attitude  of  the  American  is  not  that  of  the 
pensieroso  pursuing  his  inward  dream,  shutting 
himself  up  in  his  secret  garden  to  invite  and 
form  his  soul.  It  is  that  of  the  wrestler  at  grips 
with  a  reality  that  presses  upon  him  on  all 
sides,  and  which  he  has  promised  himself  to 
master.  He  lives  in  a  world,  not  of  soothing 
dreams  and  enchanting  illusions,  but  of  mud, 
of  mire,  of  rubbish,  which  he  must  knead  with 
both  hands  if  he  would  have  it  rise  into  material 
well-being  and  moral  happiness.  The  task  ap 
pears  most  revolting;  it  is  only  the  more  noble. 
Perhaps  it  does  not  satisfy  high  and  vague  in 
tellectual  aspirations,  but  it  puts  into  action 
the  robust  energies  of  the  real  man,  the  "com 
mon  man." 1  To  the  European,  who  is  too  often 
merely  the  dilettante  of  thought,  the  American 
stands  opposed  as  the  pioneer  of  action. 

The  appearance  of  the  United  States,  pro 
viding  "the  happy  opportunity  to  create  a  new 
civilization"  in  conditions  most  appropriate  to 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    35 

its  development,  permitted  the  making  of  "a 
new  human  experiment."  1  The  experiment  has 
succeeded;  the  new  man,  if  not  formed,  is  at 
least  in  process  of  formation. 

What  will  he  be?  It  is  still  in  part  a  mys 
tery,  but  whatever  he  may  be,  he  will  be  of  his 
time.  To  be  of  one's  time,  in  this  day,  is  not 
to  delight  oneself  with  adoration  of  a  dead  past, 
it  is  not  even  to  pause  in  one's  progress  to  enjoy 
the  present.  To  be  of  one's  time,  in  this  day, 
is  to  be  of  to-morrow.  To  live  is  to  anticipate 
the  future;  above  all  to  create. 

More  precisely,  to  live  in  this  day  is  not  to 
be.  Life  is  before  all  things  all  action  and 
mobility.  Contemporary  life  is  no  longer  con 
stituted,  as  formerly,  under  the  category  of 
being.  Not  that  it  abandons  itself  voluptu 
ously  to  the  flow  of  events,  to  an  inconsistent 
and  fluid  becoming,  like  that  which  carried 
away  old  Heraclitus.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
energy  and  will.  By  that  fact  it  is  not  stagna 
tion;  it  thrusts  out  its  feelers  boldly  toward 
all  points,  it  radiates  in  every  direction.  It 
goes  forward  in  an  open  universe,  open  to  all 
winds,  to  every  breeze,  to  every  vivifying 
breath  of  air.  It  goes  forward  from  all  direc 
tions,  also,  swarming  from  every  point  of  the 


36          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

horizon,  flowing  in  by  thousands,  by  millions 
of  tumultuous  personalities.  William  James  has 
made  us  understand,  or  rather  feel,  this  plural 
ism.  "One  of  the  principal  characteristics  of 
life  is  the  superabundance  of  life."1  The  world 
increases,  not  all  at  once  and  in  a  block,  not 
according  to  the  mechanical  and  regulated  evo 
lution  of  Spencer,  but  by  an  infinitude  of  special, 
independent  acts,  by  numberless  absolute  be 
ginnings  and  upspringings  not  to  be  foreseen, 
by  bits  and  pieces,  thanks  to  the  contributions 
of  its  divers  parts  to  each  bit  and  piece.2  Is 
not  this  tumult  of  life  multiplied  into  infinitude, 
precisely  the  impression  that  America  gives  to 
whoever  approaches  or  studies  it  ? 

In  this  sense  America  follows  the  very  law  of 
man,  that  by  which  he  fully  realizes  his  human 
ity.  "Make,  and  making,  make  oneself."  It 
does  not  suffice,  as  has  been  said,3  to  symbolize 
the  life  of  the  American  people  by  the  ascent 
of  an  immense  ladder.  For  they  did  not  find 
a  ready-made  ladder,  giving  them  nothing  to 
do  but  climb;  but  in  the  very  act  of  climbing 
they  put  the  next  rung  in  place,  as  the  alpinist 
cuts  steps  in  the  ice,  lifting  himself  as  he  may, 
holding  on  where  he  can,  at  the  risk  of  break- 

1  William  James.  » 76. 

*  De  Rousiers,  La  Vie  Amfaicaine,  p.  5. 


AMERICA  AND  ITS  EXISTENCE    37 

ing  his  neck  at  each  step  of  his  ascent.  The 
comparison  is  by  so  much  the  more  just  as  the 
American  finds  life  also  a  sport,  a  daring  game, 
the  object  of  which  is  only  its  occasion  or  its 
pretext.  He  does  not  look  toward  the  end,  as 
has  been  already  said;  he  puts  forth  all  his 
energy  in  the  creation  of  the  means.  Each  of 
these,  when  created,  becomes  in  its  turn  a 
means  of  producing  other  means,  as  each  peak 
when  scaled  is  but  the  point  of  departure  for 
another,  higher  or  more  difficult.  The  idea  of 
an  end,  an  object  pursued,  implies  stability, 
pause.  It  is  a  European,  not  an  American,  idea. 
The  European,  when  he  has  finished  his  work, 
rests,  retires  from  business,  and  lives  upon  his 
income.  The  American  never  finishes  his  work, 
and  never  rests.  He  is  not  tending  toward 
a  purpose,  for  his  sole  purpose  is  to  tend,  to  put 
forth  all  his  strength  indefinitely,  unceasingly. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL 

THE   AMERICAN   AN   INDIVIDUALIST,   BUT   NOT 

INDIVIDUALIZED;  WILL  RATHER  THAN 

INTELLIGENCE 

WITHOUT  paradox  one  might  charac 
terize  the  American  by  saying  that  he 
is  at  once  the  most  individualistic  and 
the  least  individualized  of  all  men.  He  is  the 
most  individualistic,  the  freest  in  intention  and 
in  fact,  the  most  emancipated  from  social  con 
straint.  But  this  freedom  of  action  has  not 
yet  made  of  him  the  complex,  rich  and  differen 
tiated  individual  that  we  find  among  the  peo 
ples  of  the  ancient  civilization,  and  of  whom  the 
Frenchman  is  the  accomplished  type.  There  is 
a  uniformity  of  character  and  of  taste  in  the 
United  States  that  already  impressed  de  Tocque- 
ville.  "One  would  say,  at  first  sight,  that 
minds  have  all  been  formed  upon  the  same 
model  in  America,  so  exactly  do  they  follow  the 
same  routes."1  At  the  present  day  this  char 
acteristic,  though  modified,  markedly  persists. 

1  De  la  Democratic  en  Amerique,  II,  p.  155. 
38 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          39 

Thus  the  remark  of  a  great  dressmaker  of  Paris : 
"If  I  put  a  new  gown  upon  the  market,  out  of  a 
hundred  Parisian  women  who  adopt  it  ninety- 
nine  will  have  it  modified;  of  a  hundred  Ameri 
can  women,  ninety-nine  will  accept  it  just  as 
it  is." 

It  is  a  general  law.  The  American  proposes 
to  realize  his  individuality  freely  and  fully,  but 
so  long  as  he  is  master  of  his  person  and  free  to 
choose,  he  considers  himself  satisfied,  willingly 
consenting  that  some  other  person,  better  quali 
fied  or  more  competent,  should  choose  in  his 
place.  From  the  instant  when  he  can  do  what 
he  will,  he  easily  wills  what  he  is  asked  to  will. 
He  is  let  loose  upon  life  like  a  colt  in  the  pampas ; 
like  him  he  asks  only  to  scamper  and  snort, 
taking  without  question  whatever  he  finds  on 
his  way.  His  true  joy  is  to  live  intensely  rather 
than  deeply.  He  goes,  he  is  "a  force  that  goes," 
without  troubling  himself  to  know  where.  We 
have  discovered  the  key  to  his  character  in 
activity  and  not  in  intelligence,  in  the  produc 
tion  of  means  rather  than  in  the  search  of  ends. 


40          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 


WEALTH 

The  American  a  "money-maker." — Contempt  of  "ready-made" 
wealth,  dowry,  inheritance. — Money  the  criterion  of  per 
sonal  worth. — Money  not  an  object  of  enjoyment,  but  a 
manifestation  of  power. — Daring  of  American  capital. — The 
idealization  of  wealth. — Its  moral  action. — Its  creative 
power. — Non-existence  of  the  idle  rich. — American  philan 
thropy. — Its  utilitarian  character. — Disinterestedness  of  the 
very  rich. — Voluntary  self-impoverishment. — "It  is  a  dis 
grace  to  die  rich." 

Holding  by  this  guiding  thought,  one  finds 
the  way  to  correct  many  mistaken  ideas;  first 
of  all,  that  which  sees  in  the  American  only  a 
"money-maker,"  a  "dollar-hunting  animal." 

Not  that  either  of  these  expressions  is  wholly 
false.  They  are  even  rigorously  true  if  taken 
literally,  placing  the  accent  on  "maker"  and 
not  on  "money,"  on  "hunting"  and  not  on 
"dollar."  In  the  United  States  the  well-nigh 
unique  object  is  indeed  to  make  money,  but  in 
no  case  to  find  money  ready  made.  In  the  hunt 
for  the  dollar  one  is  interested  in  the  sport, 
the  hunt,  rather  than  in  the  game,  the  dollar. 
The  latter  is  rather  a  trophy  than  a  gain.  As 
Tocqueville  has  said,  in  his  desire  to  be  rich 
"the  American  is  not  only  acting  upon  calcula 
tion,  he  is  obeying  his  natwe."  1 

1  De  la  D&mocratie  en  Amfaique,  II,  155. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          41 

Even  more  than  this.  There  is  no  man  in  all 
the  world  who  cares  less  for  money  as  money. 
We  find  proof  of  this  in  the  readiness  with  which 
he  spends  it.  He  simply  despises  oiir  European 
habits  of  economy  and  simplicity,  finding  in 
them  something  petty,  "mean."  There  are  a 
thousand  prodigals  in  America  for  one  miser. 
"They  waste  money."  1  They  do  not  believe 
that  money  is  made  to  be  hoarded;  it  is  made, 
in  the  first  place,  for  the  sake  of  making  it,  and 
in  the  next,  for  the  sake  of  spending,  and  above 
all,  of  displaying  it. 

It  is  made  for  the  sake  of  making  it.  It 
must  always  be  the  product  of  effort,  of  an 
idea,  of  some  sort  of  originality,  and  conse 
quently  it  is  the  sign  of  personal  worth  or  merit. 
But  it  must  not  be  money  picked  up  in  the 
street.  Americans  never  dream  of  winning  the 
big  prize  in  a  lottery,  and  they  refuse,  not  with 
out  scorn,  the  fortune  that  comes  to  them 
while  they  sleep.  They  refuse  it  in  the  form 
of  which  Europeans,  and  Frenchmen  especially, 
are  particularly  fond — the  dowry.  It  is  true 
that  a  few  daughters  of  billionaires  cross  the 
ocean  to  buy  a  ducal  coronet  with  a  husband 
thrown  in;  but  such  snobbery — for  that  is 
what  it  is — is  the  exception,  even  among  the 

1  Cf.  de  Rousiers,  La  Vie  Amtiricaine,  p.  323. 


42          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

rich.  In  any  case  if,  strictly  speaking,  a  woman 
sometimes  buys  a  husband,  a  man  never  sells 
himself.  At  his  own  risk  and  peril  he  seeks 
for  a  wife,  poor  when  he  marries  her,  whatever 
may  be  the  fortune  of  her  parents — a  com 
panion  for  life;  he  would  blush  to  think  of  her 
in  the  light  of  a  silent  partner. 

The  same  is  the  case  with  inherited  wealth. 
Of  course  a  man  does  not  refuse  it  when  it 
comes,  but  he  does  not  run  after  it.  Less  than 
in  any  other  country  can  he  be  sure  that  it  will 
come,  in  this  land  where  no  situation  is  assured, 
and  fortunes  are  made  and  lost  with  dizzying 
rapidity.  For  above  all,  the  young  American 
is  accustomed  to  count  only  upon  his  own 
powers  for  his  successes.  No  sooner  is  he  old 
enough  to  take  care  of  himself  than  he  is  ex 
pected,  and  it  is  his  most  ardent  desire,  to  cre 
ate  for  himself  an  independent  situation,  never 
to  sponge  upon  others.  "Gilded  youth"  and 
"papa's  sons"  are  hardly  known  in  the  United 
States. 

Wealth  acquired  otherwise  than  by  one's  per 
sonal  effort  is  actually  deemed  a  blemish.  To 
the  American  his  fortune  should  be  truly  a  part 
of  himself,  of  his  substance;  he  must  have 
made  it  in  some  wise  a  part  of  his  flesh  and 
blood.  If  it  be  not  his  work,  he  becomes  its 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  43 

slave.  "He  is  now  what  is  called  a  rich  man, 
that  is,  the  valet  and  factotum  of  his  wealth."  1 
It  is  a  menace  to  his  liberty,  threatening  that 
which  he  has  most  at  heart,  his  very  reason  for 
being;  his  personal  dignity  and  independence. 

Money,  in  fact,  is  of  no  account  to  an  Ameri 
can  except  as  it  comes  from  himself  and  expresses 
the  result  of  his  successful  activity.  But  when 
this  is  the  case  he  proposes  that  this  result  shall 
be  manifest,  exhibited  to  all  eyes.  Therefore, 
once  he  has  made  it,  he  must  spend  it  freely, 
ostentatiously,  not  only  as  a  right,  but  almost 
as  a  duty,  an  obligation  to  himself.  By  a  sense 
of  personal  dignity  which  takes  on  a  form  that 
seems  strange  to  us,  he  owes  it  to  himself  to 
make  himself  respected.  And  money  com 
mands  respect  in  the  same  proportion  as  it  mani 
fests  power.  Ostentation,  in  this  artless  form, 
thus  takes  on  almost  a  moral  character.  It  is 
a  proof  of  effort  and  of  success,  a  fine  external 
manifestation  of  sovereignty.  Money  is  a  cri 
terion;  one  is  worth  so  many  dollars.  Among 
a  nation  of  self-made  tradesmen  it  is  the  mea 
sure,  the  standard,  of  individual  worth. 

But  this  is  only  the  smallest  use  of  money. 
It  was  made  to  be  endangered,  risked.  It  is  a 
lever  or  a  means.  Mr.  Gould,  the  multi- 

1  Emerson,  Essays. 


44          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

millionaire,  said  to  M.  Huret:  "I  do  not  work 
to  make  money,  but  to  increase  my  power."1 
Two  things  may  be  demanded  of  money :  either 
pleasure  or  power.  The  citizen  of  the  United 
States  cares  relatively  little  for  pleasure.  Ac 
customed  to  a  precocious  and  arduous  life,  he 
has  little  time  to  enjoy  pleasure.  Even  had  he 
the  time  he  is  only  moderately  equipped  for 
its  enjoyment.  He  is  too  young,  he  lacks  that 
long  past  of  culture  and  refinement,  and  that 
ornate  indolence  of  French  and  Italian  courts 
in  the  time  of  the  Renaissance,  which  among 
Latin  peoples  made  the  man  of  taste,  the  dilet 
tante,  the  amateur  of  supple  and  unusual  sen 
sations.  What  he  wants  are  strong,  intense 
sensations,  and  he  finds  them  in  struggle  and 
the  expenditure  of  energy.  "Our  country  calls 
not  for  the  life  of  ease,  but  for  the  life  of  strenu 
ous  endeavor."  2 

If  the  American  exerts  himself  it  is  with  the 
desire  to  shake  himself  free  from  the  mass,  to 
dominate.  To  plan  colossal  undertakings,  to 
be  the  heart  or  the  head,  the  vital  principle  of 
huge  enterprises,  is  his  ambition.  The  French 
man  says  to  himself,  "If  I  were  King !"  and  he 
builds  castles  in  Spain.  The  American  exclaims, 

1  Huret,  De  New-York  d  la  Nouvelle-Orleans,  p.  203. 

2  Roosevelt,  The  Strenuous  Life,  p.  20. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          45 

"I  will  be  King!"  and  he  builds  a  factory  in 
America.  And  if  he  happen  to  be  successful 
he  will,  in  fact,  be  a  king,  a  petroleum  king, 
steel  king,  railway  king.  The  Frenchman  in 
vests  his  capital;  the  American  ventures  it. 
"In  this  country  money  is  the  possibility  of 
creation."  1 

But  to  this  end  he  must  assume  risks,  and 
capital  displays  a  hardihood  which,  if  we  may 
believe  Mr.  Carnegie,  ninety-nine  times  out  of 
a  hundred  leads  to  failure.  He  is  face  to  face 
with  the  problem:  "Given  that  the  object  is  to 
gain  money,  what  shall  we  do  to  gain  more 
money?"2  This  is,  in  fact,  a  question  which 
no  one  dreams  of  discussing,  which  posits  itself 
almost  in  the  form  of  a  categorical  imperative. 
When  Guizot  said  to  the  French  bourgeoisie, 
"Make  yourselves  rich,"  he  was  simply  giving 
advice.  If  he  had  been  speaking  to  Americans 
he  would  have  imposed  upon  them  a  precept. 
It  is  a  duty  to  make  a  fortune  in  this  land  where 
wealth  is  the  sole  principle  of  admitted  classi 
fication,  where,  as  Emerson  has  said,  men  fol 
low  after  deeds,  after  success,  not  after  talent, 
but  where  it  must  be  conceded  success  pretty 
generally  rewards  talent.  It  is  a  duty  to  win 

1  La  France  et  les  £tats-Unis.     Address  of  M.  Boutroux,  p.  11. 

2  Quoted  by  Huret,  op.  cit.,  pp.  291,  292. 


46          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  race,  to  beat  the  record.  "Who  has  gone 
farthest?  I  would  go  farther,"  as  Whitman 
superbly  said. 

Here  is  something  great,  a  sort  of  idealization 
of  wealth.  One  can  understand  Tocqueville 
paying  respect  to  the  enterprising  spirit  of 
American  ship-owners.  "The  Americans  put 
a  sort  of  heroism  into  their  way  of  doing  busi 
ness."  *  Thus  understood,  wealth  does  not 
corrupt  the  individual,  it  makes  him  sound,  for 
it  is  only  exceptionally,  and  over  and  above  that 
he  uses  it  for  his  personal  satisfaction.  It  is  a 
stimulant  that  develops  intelligence  as  much  as 
it  utilizes  energy.  "Wealth  is  in  applications 
of  mind  to  nature;  and  the  art  of  getting  rich 
consists  not  in  industry,  much  less  in  saving, 
but  in  better  order,  in  timeliness,  in  being  at 
the  right  spot."  2  It  is  a  question  not  of  being 
rich,  but  of  becoming  so;  and  for  this  the  im 
portant  thing  is  to  create  the  opportunity,  or 
at  least  to  seize  it  as  it  passes,  bending  all  the 
powers  of  one's  mind  toward  that  natural  power 
which  gives  itself  only  to  him  who  is  able  to 
take  it.  Making  it  his  servant,  man  at  the 
same  time  emancipates  himself  from  the  exi 
gencies  of  matter  and  the  yoke  of  other  men. 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  rit.,  II,  414. 

2  Emerson,  The  Conduct  of  Life  :  Wealth. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  47 

It  is  in  this  masterful  sense  that  we  must  un 
derstand  Emerson's  words:  "He  is  bora  to  be 
rich;1  not  to  amass  money,  which  is  despicable; 
not  to  enjoy  it,  which  is  trivial;  but  to  master 
himself  in  mastering  it."  The  poor  man,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  only  dependence  and  humilia 
tion.  "Poverty  demoralizes.  In  proportion  to 
his  indebtedness  the  debtor  is  a  slave." 

But  this  is  still  only  a  lower  form  of  liberty — 
that  which  consists  in  breaking  one's  chains. 
There  is  another,  higher  and  more  fruitful,  the 
liberty  of  action  and  production.  The  Ameri 
can  has  worked  in  order  to  be  rich;  he  keeps  on 
working  because  he  is  rich.  He  does  not  look 
forward  to  the  time  when  he  shall  "enjoy  the 
fruits  of  his  labor,"  by  eating  up  his  income; 
he  throws  his  money  into  the  furnace  and  him 
self  stirs  the  substance  in  the  crucible.  If  he 
fails,  he  begins  again;  if  he  succeeds,  success 
merely  provides  the  opportunity  for  a  new  push 
forward.  Fortune  is  no  sinecure,  and  the  rich 
est  men  are  the  busiest.  "It  is  impossible  to 
work  harder  at  being  happy."  3 

Consequently,  there  are  in  the  United  States 
no  idle  rich,  that  superfluity  and  plague-spot 
of  older  civilizations.  "Up  to  the  present  time 

1  Ib.,  op.  cit.  2  76.,  op.  cit. 

8  De  Tocqueville,  op.  cit.,  p.  123. 


48          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  race  of  men  of  leisure  does  not  exist  in 
America;  every  one  works." l  The  wealthy 
American  who  desires  to  rest  has  only  one  re 
source:  to  go  to  Europe,  the  blessed  land  of  the 
dolce  far  niente.  Let  him  go  to  Paris  or  to 
Florence,  for  in  New  York  or  "Frisco"  there  is 
no  room  for  him.  All  the  more  surely  there  is 
none  for  his  children.  The  latter  will  not  be 
degenerates,  for  "the  rich  man's  son  is  poor," 
or  as  good  as  poor.  He  sees  in  his  father  an 
example  to  follow,  and  if  possible  even  to  over 
pass.  It  will  be  understood  how,  while  recog 
nizing  that  bad  rich  men  do  exist  in  America, 
as  elsewhere,  Mr.  Roosevelt  is  able  to  maintain 
that,  all  things  considered,  "on  the  whole  the 
thrifty  are  apt  to  be  better  citizens  than  the 
thriftless."  2 

This  ardor  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth  does  not 
exclude  generosity,  care  for  those  who  suffer, 
but  it  transforms  it.  The  two  go  together,  and 
in  America  we  find  what  may  be  called  a  dis 
interested  utilitarianism.  A  sense  of  practical 
realities  is  manifest  in  the  benevolent  enterprises 
of  the  most  charitable  persons.  It  seems  en 
tirely  natural  that  when  a  philanthropist  builds 
houses  for  working  men  his  money  should  bring 

1  Huret,  op.  cit.,  p.  211.  2  Roosevelt,  American  Ideals. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  49 

him  six  per  cent,1  that  when  Doctor  Keeley,  in 
his  "Cure,"  regenerates  the  race  by  measures 
known  only  to  himself,  he  should  keep  the  se 
cret  that  brings  him  millions.2  There  is  nothing 
sentimental  in  admiration  of  these  proceedings; 
it  is  thought  out  and  reasonable.  In  the  first 
place  it  answers  to  the  American's  well-developed 
sense  of  justice;  the  benefactor  reaps  a  legiti 
mate  reward,  a  legitimate  profit,  from  his  bene 
factions.  It  follows  that  the  profit  reacts  upon 
the  benefaction  itself,  making  possible  an  en 
largement  of  its  scope,  at  once  useful  and  fruit 
ful.  In  such  examples  we  see  to  the  life  one 
of  the  essential  features  of  American  morality, 
the  ends  of  justice  blending  with  those  of  in 
terest. 

It  is  true  that  there  is  still  an  aristocracy  of 
wealth  that  does  good  without  hope  of  return, 
men  like  Rockefeller,  Carnegie,  and  many  others. 
But  their  conduct  springs  from  an  analogous 
principle.  Wealth,  being  an  instrument  of  ac 
tion,  confers  duties  rather  than  rights,  and  the 
first  of  these  duties  is  to  make  the  most  of  one's 
tools.  The  directing  class  has  a  function  to 
fulfil,  it  ought  to  "render  service."  3  In  this 
land  of  exaggerated  individualism  this  class 
considers  itself,  and  is  considered,  as  more 

1  Huret,  op.  cit.,  p.  220.  2  76.,  p.  268.  3  Emerson,  Essays. 


50          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

especially  representing  the  collectivity,  which 
is  in  some  sort  summed  up  and  included  in 
the  strongest  personalities.  "Public  spirit"  is, 
above  all,  incarnated  in  the  very  rich.  They 
consider  themselves  less  as  the  owners  than  as 
the  depositories  of  their  wealth.  They  devote 
their  resources  to  the  creation  of  schools,  uni 
versities,  libraries,  hospitals,  and  charitable  in 
stitutions.  They  even  extend  their  action  be 
yond  the  frontiers  of  their  country.  They  rep 
resent  first  America,  and  then  all  humanity. 
These  billionaires  have,  to  a  large  degree,  res 
cued  from  famine  the  population  of  Belgium 
and  the  north  of  France.  One  of  them,  Mr. 
Carnegie,  has  lately  given  tens  of  millions  of 
dollars  toward  the  rehabilitation  of  the  invaded 
regions. 

They  make  this  sacrifice  intelligently,  and  are 
ready  to  make  it  completely.  Intelligently,  for 
their  attentive  charity,  always  alert,  is  nothing 
less  than  blind.  It  is  not  the  philanthropy  of 
the  "free  kitchen,"  which,  sparing  the  effort  of 
the  poor  and  the  discernment  of  the  benefactor, 
only  prolongs  poverty,  and  proves  that  "in 
philanthropy,  as  in  all  other  branches  of  human 
activity,  lack  of  intelligence  causes  as  many 
evils  as  hardness  of  heart."  1  It  is  an  active 

1  Roosevelt,  American  Ideals. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          51 

collaboration  of  the  rich  with  the  poor,  an  at 
tempt  at  relief  by  work.1 

The  gift  may  and  would  gladly  be  total. 
Let  America  to-morrow  see  the  need  of  mobil 
izing  wealth,  and  these  billionaires  will  give  to 
their  last  dollar.  Systematically  and  of  their 
own  free  will  such  men  as  Rockefeller  and  Car 
negie  are  working  toward  their  own  ruin. 
Money  derived  from  labor  should,  in  one  form 
or  another,  be  restored  to  labor.  It  is  a  law  of 
conscience  to  impoverish  oneself.  Mr.  Choate, 
formerly  ambassador  from  the  United  States 
to  London,  said  these  words,  so  profoundly 
American  in  spite  of  appearances,  and  repeated 
after  him  by  Mr.  Wilson:  "The  benefit  of  this 
war  is  that  it  will  impoverish  us." 

It  may  be  seen  what  remains,  after  analysis, 
of  the  common  prejudice  concerning  the  so- 
called  hardness  of  the  business  man  in  the 
United  States.  Earnestness  is  not  hardness. 
The  Auvergnat  dealer  in  second-hand  goods, 
gathering  up  and  hoarding,  is  hard  in  his  pur 
suit  of  profit;  the  master  of  industry  in  Denver 
or  Philadelphia,  who  calls  forth  something  from 
nothing,  a  world  from  a  desert,  is  earnest  in  his 
pursuit  of  the  dollar.  For  this  dollar  is  creative, 
life-giving.  Wealth  in  America  does  not  hide 


52          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

itself  in  the  woollen  stocking  so  dear  to  the 
heart  of  the  French  peasant.  It  is  in  the  street, 
not  in  the  bureau-drawer.  It  is  in  the  clangor 
of  machines,  the  immensity  of  factories,  the 
equipment  of  scientific  laboratories.  It  abounds, 
it  flows  in  from  all  sides,  revolves  in  an  incessant 
motion  of  to  and  fro.  It  seeks  to  be  employed, 
and  instinctively  chooses  the  greatest  risks, 
which  are  often  the  most  rewarding.  Born  of 
energy,  it  creates  energy.  To  be  rich,  for  an 
American,  is  to  be  not  a  social  parasite,  but  a 
social  force. 

Above  all,  wealth  does  not  reside  in  rich 
men,  nor  in  groups  of  rich  men;  at  least  it  is 
not  essentially  in  these.  "America  is  as  rich, 
not  as  Wall  Street,  not  as  the  financial  centres 
in  Chicago  and  St.  Louis  and  San  Francisco; 
it  is  as  rich  as  the  people  that  make  these  cen 
tres  rich."  x  Toward  these  people  we  must 
now  turn  our  eyes  to  find  wealth  at  its  source. 
Behind  wealth,  that  indication,  let  us  seek  the 
individual  who  made  it. 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          53 
II 

LIBERTY 

The  American  meaning  of  liberty;  emancipation  and  fullest 
realization  of  the  individual. — 1.  Independence:  America 
an  "open  field"  for  all  activities. — 2.  Force:  power  of  ex 
pansion;  struggle  with  destiny. — 3.  Will:  formation  of 
character,  effort;  America  the  land  of  "hard  workers." — 
4.  Well-being:  moral  discipline  and  freedom  of  the  will. 

The  individual,  we  say,  and  not  the  nation. 
In  fact,  the  individual  makes  the  real  strength 
of  the  United  States.  It  is  the  product  of  his 
ordered  vigor,  his  tense  will.  Thus  everything 
is  subordinate  to  him — family,  State,  Union. 
He  is  the  end  to  which  all  these  divers  organiza 
tions  are  but  the  means.  All  things  are  designed 
to  insure  his  full  self-realization,  but  more  than 
them  all,  he  puts  forth  his  own  energies  to  this 
end.  In  this  sense  his  duty  blends  with  his 
nature.  He  wills  to  be  all  that  he  can  be.  His 
ideal  is  the  highest  possible  realization  of  his 
personality. 

To  his  mind  all  is  contained  in  the  one  word, 
liberty.  But  to  this  word  he  gives  its  fullest 
sense.  American  liberty  has  not  its  equivalent 
in  Europe;  in  Europe  man  is  subject  to  too 
many  external  disciplines,  held  by  too  many 
inward  prejudices.  Like  wealth,  liberty  is  for 


54          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

him  rather  enjoyment  than  power;  he  seeks  in 
it  a  sense  of  security,  of  "surety,"  as  our  "Dec 
laration  of  Rights"  has  it,  rather  than  an  ele 
ment  of  strength.  The  liberty  that  he  asks  for 
is  that  to  which  the  slave  aspires,  who  would 
break  his  shackles;  it  is,  more  than  aught  else, 
impatience  of  the  yoke  mingled  with  the  desire 
for  a  happy  life.  Now  the  American  knows 
nothing  of  the  yoke;  he  shook  it  off  at  the  out 
set;  nor  does  he  know  much  about  happiness, 
at  least  in  the  sense  in  which  we  understand  it, 
the  ease  of  a  quiet  life,  the  charm  of  long  leisure. 
For  him,  life  is  hard  and  severe,  it  is  a  combat,  a 
"struggle."  To  be  free  is  to  be  a  victor,  affirm 
his  independence,  create  his  "I." 

Such  a  liberty  appears  complex,  and  on  anal 
ysis  resolves  itself  into  many  elements.  Going 
from  the  more  superficial  to  the  more  profound, 
it  may  be  said  that  it  implies  four  essential 
ideas:  independence,  strength,  will,  and  well-being. 

Independence  is  in  some  sort  the  negative 
condition  of  liberty,  and  as  Descartes  said  of 
indifference,  its  lowest  degree.  It  signifies  sim 
ply  the  open  road,  the  absence  of  obstacles. 
And  this  is  what  America  willed  and  realized 
first  of  all.  Its  distinctive  mark  among  all  na 
tions  is,  as  Mr.  Wilson  said,  that  it  is  a  "free 
field,"  and  not  a  "closed  field."  "America 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  55 

was  set  up  that  she  might  be-  different  from 
all  the  nations  of  the  world  in  this:  that  the 
strong  could  not  push  the  weak  to  the  wall, 
that  the  strong  could  not  prevent  the  weak 
from  entering  the  race.  America  stands  for 
opportunity.  America  stands  for  a  free  field 
and  no  favor,"  1  no  aristocracy,  no  privileged 
persons,  each  takes  his  chance.  "America  was 
created  for  the  sole  purpose  of  giving  every  man 
the  same  chance  as  every  other  man,  to  be 
master  of  his  own  fortunes."  2  Therefore  no 
master,  no  guardian. 

But  if  the  American  asks  for  independence  he 
also1  accepts  it,  wholly,  courageously,  with  its 
obligations  as  well  as  its  advantages.  He  does 
not  refuse  subjection  in  order  to  demand  privi 
leges.  He  asks  nothing  of  authority.  In  France 
we  mock  at  it  but  we  secretly  beg  its  favors. 
Punch  beats  the  policeman,  but  demands  a 
government  position.  The  revolutionaries  of 
1793  became  the  functionaries  of  Napoleon. 
In  love  with  doled-out  and  peaceful  pleasures, 
the  Frenchman  consents  to  have  his  hands  half- 
tied,  provided  they  are  half -filled.  His  life, 
whether  personal  or  political,  is  made  up  of  com 
promises.  The  American  knows  nothing  of 
them,  or  despises  them.  He  proposes  to  have 
his  hands  both  free  and  full,  that  is,  to  be  free 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom.  2  76. 


56          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

to  fill  them  himself.  He  must  have  free  play, 
the  breakneck  life  of  the  adventurer.  "With 
the  American  the  instinct  for  freedom  of  move 
ment,"  some  one  has  said,  "goes  along  with 
freedom  of  activity  and  freedom  of  thought."  l 
The  first  commands  the  other  two.  It  is  charac-  • 
terized  by  impetuosity,  violence;  it  is  a  rushing 
torrent,  not  a  gently  gliding  rivulet.  It  may  be 
recognized  by  a  thousand  indications:  it  mani 
fests  itself  in  the  absence  of  ceremony,  somewhat 
startling  to  the  European  police,  of  the  Yankee 
who  comes  in  noisily,  keeping  his  hat  on,  puts 
his  elbows  on  the  table,  or  his  feet  on  the  chim- 
neypiece;  it  appears  in  the  exuberance  of  his 
physical  life,  his  love  of  sports,  his  journeys,  his 
long  cruises,  his  headlong  automobile  drives; 
it  explains  his  impetuous  changes  of  plan — he 
builds  a  home  for  his  declining  years  and  sells 
it  before  the  scaffolding  is  down,  he  adopts  a 
profession  and  abandons  it.  He  must  go  through 
existence  at  his  own  free  will,  feeling  himself 
bound  by  no  tie,  chained  to  no  task.  The  need 
of  change  is  the  first  manifestation  of  his  need 
of  liberty. 

But  it  is  only  an  external  manifestation,  and 
athwart  his  independence  we  find  strength. 
The  American  has  that  extraordinary  power  of 

1  La  France  et  les  Etats-Unis.     Address  of  Walter  V.  Berry,  p.  115. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  57 

expansion  which  is  the  property  of  youthful 
peoples,  full  of  sap,  and  which  Europe  does  not 
know,  or  knows  no  longer.  With  us  thought 
directs  activity,  while  with  him  activity  springs 
out  of  thought;  it  is  only  one  of  the  forms,  and 
by  no  means  the  most  essential  form,  that  ac 
tivity  takes  on  when  it  realizes  itself.  We  ar 
range,  we  regulate  our  lives;  we  map  out  for 
ourselves  a  plan  of  existence;  our  future  com 
mands  our  present.  This  is  characteristic  of 
reflective,  cultivated,  intellectual  peoples.  The 
American  is  not  reflective,  he  is  spontaneous  like 
a  force  of  nature.  He  is  not  cultivated,  but 
rough  hewn,  a  vivid,  cheerful  creature  who 
only  asks  to  develop  in  his  own  way,  and  not 
to  be  toned  down.  Properly  speaking,  he  is 
not  intellectual;  he  has  not  ideas  but  impulses 
and  flights  of  fancy.  His  life,  therefore,  is  not 
ready-made,  constructed  in  advance  by  his 
thought,  as  is  ours.  It  will  be  what  it  will  be, 
or  rather  what  it  will  make  itself,  by  fits  and 
starts,  falls  and  uprisings,  catastrophes  and  tri 
umphs.  But  it  will  always  be  a  progress,  a 
realization,  without  even  turning  back  upon 
itself  in  an  effort  at  reflection,  seeking  to  com 
prehend  itself.  "The  American  looks  upon 
life  from  the  point  of  view  of  activity."  l 

But  his  force,  exerting  itself,  encounters  other 

1  Address  of  M.  Boutroux,  p.  7. 


58          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

forces,  of  men,  of  things.  "It  is  everywhere 
bound  or  limitation."  Will  the  torrent  deviate 
from  its  course,  or  turn  back  to  its  source  ?  No, 
indeed !  The  American  accepts  destiny  and 
looks  it  in  the  face.  Far  from  submitting  to 
it,  he  proposes  to  master  it.  "We  must  respect 
Fate  as  natural  history,  but  there  is  more  than 
natural  history."  1  There  is  the  appeal  to  all 
the  resources  of  his  being,  physical  and  mental, 
to  the  hardening  of  his  body,  which  grows 
tougher  under  fatigue  and  suffering,  to  that 
sagacity  of  mind  which  searches  out  useful  re 
actions  and  opportune  repartee.  Unceasingly 
the  impulse  of  choice  and  of  action  gushes  up 
from  the  soul.  Intelligence  commands  the  in 
evitable,2  and  under  the  blows  of  his  repeated 
experiences,  his  successes,  and  his  checks  the 
American  becomes  virile.  The  impetuous  young 
animal  becomes  the  man  who  masters  himself. 
Strangely  enough,  the  creature  of  impulse  be 
comes  not  a  reflective  but  a  tenacious  man. 

Thus  force  is  transformed  into  will.  "There 
can  be  no  driving  force  except  through  the  con 
version  of  the  man  into  his  will,  making  him  the 
will  and  the  will  him."  3  We  no  longer  see 

1  Emerson,  The  Conduct  of  Life  :  Fate. 

2  /6.  3  76. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  59 

mere  energy;  henceforth  we  have  before  us  a 
character. 

It  first  manifests  itself  by  the  faculty  of  de 
cision.  It  is  not  enough  to  will,  nor  even  to 
will  well — one  must  will  quickly.  Life  does  not 
wait,  and  the  hesitating  are  left  in  the  rear. 
The  important  thing  is  to  judge  of  a  situation 
at  a  glance  and  decide  upon  one's  action,  to 
"plunge  into  a  decision."  1  Those  who  err 
are  worth  more  than  those  who  lag  behind,  for 
the  former  can  repair  or  modify  their  mistakes; 
the  latter  will  never  catch  up.  "In  the  course 
of  business  you  must  come  to  a  decision;  the 
best,  if  you  can,  but  a  decision  of  any  sort  is 
better  than  none."  2  One  must  be  able  to  "de 
cide  at  a  moment's  notice."  3  One  is  amazed 
to  see  with  what  rapidity,  with  a  word,  a  tele 
phone  message,  a  stroke  of  the  pen,  the  most 
colossal  business  matters  are  proposed,  ac 
cepted,  regulated. 

Determination  once  reached,  execution  must 
follow,  and  at  the  shortest  notice.  It  is  the  era 
of  difficulties.  The  weak  blame  destiny  and 
give  up.  The  American  is  no  weakling  and  he 
persists.  "Let  him  hold  his  purpose  as  with 
the  tug  of  gravitation.  No  power,  no  per 
suasion,  no  bribe  shall  make  him  give  up  his 

1 76.  2  76.  8  76. 


60          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

point."1  By  inflexible  resolution  man  comes 
to  master  the  forces  of  nature,  to  transform 
these  demons  into  gods.  New  problems  are 
posited  every  moment.  To  take  but  one  exam 
ple,  we  know  those  unexpected  and  apparently 
insoluble  problems  which  American  engineers 
encountered  when  constructing  the  Panama 
Canal.  In  another  order  of  ideas,  we  know 
the  efforts  of  President  Wilson  to  win  over 
his  country  to  the  idea  of  intervention,  and, 
above  all,  to  conscription.  But  the  canal  was 
dug,  and  ten  millions  of  possible  soldiers  are 
inscribed  to-day  and,  if  necessary,  will  be  en 
listed  and  drilled  to  the  last  man.  The  United 
States  find  at  home  "that  class  of  affirma 
tive  men"  that  "conceive  and  execute  all  great 
things."  2 

And  all  is  done  by  this  ardent  but  self-con 
tained  nation  with  a  self-possession,  a  "self- 
control"  which  commands  respect.  While  lead 
ing  an  "exciting"  life,  it  permits  nothing  to 
appear  outside,  is  firm  before  a  check,  tranquil 
before  success;  it  wavers — but  only  within. 

And  let  no  one  imagine  that  this  is  the  case 
with  a  few  exceptional  natures  endowed  with 
clearer  perceptions  and  an  uncommon  force  of 
will.  Such  as  these  no  doubt  generally  go  fur- 

i  Ib.  2  76. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  61 

ther.  But  they  simply  carry  to  a  higher  degree 
the  fundamental  qualities  of  the  race;  they  dif 
fer  from  the  mass  only  in  degree,  not  in  nature. 
If  America  is  great,  and  growing  greater,  it  is 
the  deed  of  all,  not  of  a  few.  "A  nation  is  as 
great,  and  only  as  great,  as  her  rank  and  file."  1 
It  is  "the  common  man,"  "the  average  man," 
who  in  the  narrow  sphere  in  which  he  toils, 
and  which  by  his  effort  he  more  or  less  enlarges, 
obtains,  or  more  correctly,  laboriously  compels, 
these  results.  "It  is  the  great  body  of  toilers 
that  constitute  the  might  of  America."  2 

America  is  the  land  of  toilers;  this  is  its  true 
physiognomy.  The  millionaire  himself  is  the 
poor  toiler  of  yesterday  who  in  the  rich  toiler 
of  to-day  continues  to  toil.  The  toiler  is  he 
who  has  faith,  not  a  facile  and  passive  faith  in  a 
lucky  chance,  but  an  active  faith  in  his  own 
strength  and  will.  He  knows  that  he  may  not 
count  upon  chance  unless  he  abets  it.  He  knows 
that  a  man's  fortunes  are  "the  fruit  of  his 
character,"3  and  that  success  is  a  function  of 
merit  and  effort.  "We  do  not  admire  the  timid 
man  of  peace,  we  admire  the  man  of  victorious 
effort."4  Should  it  prove  useless,  effort  must 
still  be  put  forth.  "It  is  hard  to  fail,  but  it  is 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom.  2  Ib. 

8  Emerson,  The  Conduct  of  Life.  *  Roosevelt,  The  Strenuous  Life. 


62          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

worse  never  to  have  tried  to  succeed.  In  this 
life  we  succeed  in  nothing  without  effort."1 
Woe  to  the  men  and  the  peoples  who  have  no 
history,  to  those  who  have  not  truly  lived,  who 
have  dragged  themselves  along  "in  the  gray 
twilight  that  knows  neither  victory  nor  de 
feat."2  The  American  has  a  history;  his  life, 
made  up  of  successive  audacities,  perpetual  de 
fiances  of  destiny,  is  a  game  in  which  the  in 
variable  stakes  are  difficulties.  It  is  neither 
resignation  nor  expectation;  it  revolts  against 
constraint,  it  goes  ahead  of  facts,  and  some 
times  even  of  possibilities.  The  word  "impossi 
ble"  is  not  American.  America's  history  is  the 
product  of  her  liberty. 

From  the  moment  when  a  man  acts,  not  with 
that  deficient  freedom  which  consists  in  not 
being  opposed  or  molested,  but  with  a  properly 
efficient  freedom  by  which  he  proposes  to  realize 
all  the  powers  of  his  being,  a  moral  element 
enters  into  action.  "When  the  Americans  speak 
of  freedom  they  speak  only  of  freedom  for  self- 
development,  for  useful  activity,  for  rising."  3 
And  such  a  freedom  not  only  is  reconciled  with 
the  idea  of  discipline,  it  implies  and  demands  it. 

1  Ib.  2  7&> 

3  De  Rousiers,  Preface  to  the  French  translation  of  The  Strenuous 
Life,  p.  xiii. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          63 

It  is  the  liberty  of  well-doing,  or  rather,  the  liberty 
to  duty. 

Thence  arise  all  those  restrictions  that  over 
turn  our  European  and  especially  our  French 
conception  of  liberty.  We  find  it  difficult  to 
accept  things  that  are  contrary  to  our  tastes  and 
incommode  our  habits.  The  American  has  few 
tastes  and  no  habits;  the  things  that  he  cannot 
endure  are  things  that  put  an  obstacle  in  the 
way  of  his  initiative.  But  these  people,  so 
jealous  of  their  independence,  yield  without  a 
murmur  to  all  sorts  of  puritan  restrictions, 
liquor  laws,  Sunday  laws,  etc.,  which  are  still 
in  vigor  in  certain  States  of  the  Union.  The 
Frenchman  would  rather  die  of  drink  than  im 
pinge  upon  the  privileges  of  the  wine-growers. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  constant  meddling  of 
the  administration  in  the  thousand  details  of 
industrial  and  agricultural  production  would 
not  be  tolerated  in  the  United  States,  for  it 
would  seem  to  paralyze  action.  The  American 
will  consent  to  the  restriction  of  his  enjoyments 
so  long  as  his  activities  are  unhindered;  the 
Frenchman  tolerates  interference  with  his  ac 
tivities  provided  the  doors  of  the  cafe  and  the 
cinema  are  left  open. 

Again,  American  liberty  is  a  "jealous  liberty," 
permitting  draconian  prohibitions  with  regard 


64          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

to  others;  strict  protection  closing  the  ports  to 
products  of  foreign  industry,  pitiless  measures 
against  Chinese  immigration,  or  that  of  "unde 
sirables."  Selfishness,  all  this,  no  doubt,  but 
an  intelligent  and  in  its  way  moral  selfishness. 
What  the  American  proposes  to  protect  is 
American  energy,  which  would  be  weakened, 
American  initiative,  which  would  be  checked, 
by  an  influx  of  cheap  labor  or  of  worthless  or 
useless  men  of  no  value  to  the  country.  Amer 
ica  refuses  liberty  to  injure,  tolerating  only  liberty 
to  act  and  to  produce.  Liberty  must  have  pro 
ductiveness  as  a  corollary.  The  unproductive, 
a  fortiori  the  destructive,  have  no  right  to  exist 
ence,  and  still  less  to  admission. 

That  there  is  narrowness  and  a  degree  of  in 
justice  in  this  conception  is  certain.  It  may  be 
too  facile  and  too  rigid.  While  it  is  hard  upon 
the  weak,  it  often  risks  appearing  ill  judged  and 
tactless,  of  shutting  out  forces  that  are  of  an 
other  order  and  perhaps  even  on  a  higher  level. 
But  its  intent  is  pure.  American  liberty,  which, 
as  has  been  shown,  draws  its  inspiration  from 
the  gospel,  and  whose  "deep  roots  .  .  .  draw 
their  nourishment  from  the  general  substratum 
of  the  American  spirit,"1  is  for  men  of  good-will, 
and  will  is  good  only  when  it  is  strong,  daring, 

1  Ib.,  op.  cit.,  p.  xv. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  65 

creative.  Furthermore,  it  is  justified  by  its 
works;  it  has  made  a  free  America. 

It  is  a  joyful,  light-hearted,  and  productive 
liberty,  of  which  President  Wilson  speaks, 
deeming  it  still  imperfectly  realized,  but  extol 
ling  it  in  terms  like  these:  Is  not  this  the  highest 
idea  that  you  could  form  of  liberty — that  it  is 
that  which  relieves  men  and  women  of  all  that 
weighs  upon  them,  and  prevents  them  from  being 
and  doing  their  best,  which  frees  their  energy 
and  carries  it  to  its  utmost  limit,  which  emanci 
pates  their  aspirations  to  a  limitless  extent, 
and  which  fills  their  minds  with  the  great  joy 
which  is  born  of  the  realization  of  hope?1 

What  practical  use  will  the  American  make 
of  this  liberty?  And  by  what  means  will  he 
set  it  to  work  ? 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom. 


66          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

III 

EDUCATION 

Its  virile  character. — It  admits  of  risk. — Respect  for  the  child's 
liberty. — Moral  equality  of  parents  and  children. — The 
American  educational  system. — Its  practical  character. — 
Culture  sacrificed  to  utility. — American  science. — Little 
theory,  but  results. 

First  of  all,  liberty  penetrates  education.  The 
latter,  in  America,  is  inspired  with  a  spirit 
diametrically  opposed  to  that  of  France.  With 
us  the  question  is  to  make  life  pleasant  to  the 
child,  with  them  to  make  it  free,  and  therefore 
useful.  The  French  boy,  coddled,  indulged,  is 
brought  up,  so  to  speak,  sentimentally,  in  an 
anxious,  apprehensive  atmosphere  that  would 
remove  every  pebble  from  his  path.  The  result 
is  a  sprightly,  dainty,  often  precocious  child, 
but  capricious,  petted,  wilful,  and  without  will; 
his  mind  open  to  things  of  the  intellect,  but  ill 
adapted  to  serve  the  purposes  of  a  man  of  action. 
In  the  United  States  his  training  is  virile,  with 
apparent  indifference  to,  but  a  truer  respect  for, 
his  moral  personality;  he  is,  above  all,  taught 
to  rely  upon  himself,  in  some  sort  to  detach 
himself  from  his  parents  instead  of  clinging  to 
them.  American  parents  do  not  live  for  their 
child  in  the  sense  in  which  we  in  France  under- 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  67 

stand  the  term;  he  is  not  the  exclusive  object 
of  their  preoccupations;  they  live  first  of  all  for 
themselves.  Not  that  they  love  him  less;  they 
love  him  otherwise,  and  in  spite  of  appearances, 
with  a  perhaps  less  selfish  love,  seeking  above 
all  else  to  make  of  him  a  person,  a  self-governing 
being. 

In  the  first  place,  American  education,  like 
American  life,  admits  of  risk.  When  the  boy 
finds  obstacles  in  his  way,  it  is  for  him  and  none 
other  to  remove  them.  Accustomed  from  his 
earliest  years  to  travel,  to  cross  the  ocean,  he 
learns  how  to  meet  physical  difficulties.  Little 
creatures  of  six  and  eight  years,  playing  freely 
on  the  deck  of  a  transatlantic,  lean  over  the 
nettings,  risking  their  lives,  unwatched  by 
mother  or  nurse.  Accidents  are  none  the  more 
numerous — quite  the  contrary.  Obliged  to  be 
on  their  guard  against  danger,  warned  by  pre 
cocious  experience,  the  boy  instinctively  ac 
quires  useful  reflexes,  suppleness  of  body,  sure- 
ness  of  eye,  which  almost  invariably  enable  him 
to  ward  off  danger  at  an  age  when  the  French 
child,  relying  upon  the  help  of  others,  is  helpless 
in  the  face  of  danger  when  by  chance  he  is  de 
prived  of  such  help.  An  American  boy  of  eleven 
will  go  to  the  bank  to  cash  his  mother's  check 
for  a  thousand  dollars,  as  among  us  he  would  go 


68          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

on  an  errand  to  the  grocer's  or  the  dairy.  And 
if  you  should  express  fear  of  intrusting  him  with 
so  large  a  sum  at  his  age,  his  parents  would  be 
amazed  at  your  apprehensions.1 

More  than  this.  At  a  very  early  age  the 
child  appears  to  be  master  of  his  conduct.  He 
receives  counsels,  but  not  commands.  Without 
being  punished  he  is  put  on  guard  against  the 
consequences  of  his  acts.  A  lad  of  twelve,  be 
lieving  himself  to  be  the  victim  of  injustice  on 
the  part  of  the  master,  declares  that  he  will 
never  again  set  foot  in  the  school.  His  father 
neither  entreats  nor  threatens  him,  as  doubtless 
he  would  do  in  France.  "Just  as  you  like;  but 
have  you  well  considered  what  you  would  lose 
in  giving  up  study?"  Whereupon  the  boy  de 
liberates  within  himself,  and  finally  decides  to 
return  to  school.  No  line  of  conduct  has  been 
imposed  upon  him;  the  terms  of  the  problem 
have  simply  been  stated  to  him,  leaving  to  him 
the  business  of  solving  it. 

American  education  is  governed  by  the  two 
fold  principle  of  respect  for  personal  liberty  and 
that  sentiment  of  equality  which  naturally  fol 
lows  in  its  train.  The  child  is  treated  as  a  free 
man,  and  he  treats  himself  as  such.  He  is 
told — and  he  soon  learns  to  say  to  himself, 

1  Cf.  de  Rousiers,  La  Vie  Americaine,  pp.  407  jf. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          69 

not  "Act  as  you  think  best,  do  as  you  please," 
but  "Act  on  your  own  responsibility,  do  as  you 
will."  The  best  way  of  substituting  will  for 
caprice  is  to  instil  into  the  child  from  his  earli 
est  years  a  sense  of  full  responsibility.  He  knows 
from  the  first  that  his  decisions  depend  upon 
himself  alone,  that  they  will  neither  be  dictated 
nor  suggested  to  him;  that  as  a  natural  result 
he  must  endure  all  the  consequences  of  his  de 
cisions;  that  no  paternal  or  maternal  hand  will 
be  extended  to  remove  from  his  path  the  ob 
stacles  which  he  has  himself  heaped  up  before 
himself.  He  stands  face  to  face  with  his  acts 
as  a  business  man  before  a  venture  which  is 
proposed  to  him.  "Will  it  pay?  Will  it  re 
sult  in  loss?"  It  is  a  pragmatic  conception  of 
education,  well  adapted  to  develop  at  once 
prudence  and  firmness.  After  a  few  unhappy 
experiences  the  child  will  take  the  desired  bent, 
and  will  run  no  risks  without  full  knowledge. 
Moreover,  he  is  treated  by  his  parents  not  as 
an  inferior,  but  as  an  equal.  "In  America,  the 
family,  in  the  Roman  and  aristocratic  signifi 
cance  of  the  word,  does  not  exist." 1  The  author 
ity  of  the  paterfamilias  is  unknown.  The  father 
is  the  child's  counsellor  and  guide,  not  his  mas 
ter.  The  child  feels  himself  to  be  protected 

1  De  Tocqueville,  Democracy  in  America,  II,  p.  223. 


70          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

without  being  under  tutelage.  There  are  not 
two  lines  of  conduct,  one  for  "grown  persons" 
and  another  for  children.  The  American  family 
is  a  society,  or  more  correctly,  an  association  of 
equals;  each  in  his  rank  and  on  his  level,  ac 
cording  to  his  age  and  strength,  plays  his  part 
as  collaborator.  The  child  receives  the  impres 
sion — at  first  faint,  but  soon  pretty  well  defined 
— of  participation  in  the  common  life.  Thence 
he  develops  a  very  vivid  sense  of  personal  dig 
nity.  He  is  not  asked  to  obey,  but  to  under 
stand  and  to  act.  He  will  therefore  show  more 
confidence,  more  frankness,  than  an  adulated 
and  yet  subordinated  child  in  a  French  family. 
In  the  latter  we  too  often  observe  a  spirit  of  dis 
simulation,  or  at  least  of  f urtiveness — something, 
let  us  admit,  of  the  mentality  of  the  slave,  who 
finds  secrecy  to  be  a  means  of  partly  escaping 
from  his  master;  he  fears  to  be  scolded  far  more 
than  he  expects  to  be  guided;  while  the  young 
American,  on  the  other  hand,  feels  a  real  desire 
to  ask  counsel  of  this  experienced  comrade,  this 
knowing  friend,  whom  he  finds  in  his  father. 
And  family  feeling,  less  demonstrative,  less  in 
timate,  perhaps,  in  a  certain  sense,  is  not  less 
strong.  It  is  inspired  by  a  mutual  respect  of 
which  we,  perhaps,  know  too  little. 

In  fact,  there  are  no  children  in  America. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          71 

The  child  is  already  a  man.  And  he  acts  like 
a  man.  Huret,  in  the  course  of  his  journey, 
visited  a  boys'  club  in  San  Francisco,  whose 
president  was  fourteen  years  old,  the  members 
being  from  twelve  to  sixteen.1  He  was  struck 
by  their  serious  behavior,  the  absence  of  trifling, 
of  fooling,  so  to  speak.  At  all  times  the  Ameri 
can  boy  looks  upon  life  as  a  serious  thing;  he 
treats  it  as  a  business,  never  taking  it  lightly  or 
as  a  joke.  He  is  at  once  younger  and  less  a 
child  than  a  French  boy.  He  is  younger,  with 
more  spontaneity,  freshness,  artlessness,  and 
also  with  more  purity.  He  is  certainly  less 
precocious  than  we  are;  like  the  English  boy, 
at  eighteen  he  often  seems  to  be  fifteen,  with 
the  wondering  candor  which  often  brings  a 
smile  to  the  lips  of  his  better-informed  comrade 
overseas,  whose  intelligence  is  more  developed, 
more  sophisticated.  But  he  is  less  a  child,  more 
ready  to  take  hold  of  life  with  courage  and  de 
cision.  "He  must  know  how  to  work  and  how 
to  play  vigorously.  He  must  have  a  clear  mind 
and  a  clean  life,"  2  said  Mr.  Roosevelt,  in  1900. 
In  fact,  he  knows  better  how  to  play  than  our 
boys  do;  witness  the  matches  between  Harvard 
and  Yale,  as  celebrated  as  those  between  Ox- 


1  Huret,  De  San  Francisco  a  Canada. 

2  Quoted  by  Lannelongue,  Un  tour  du  monde,  p.  324. 


72          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

ford  and  Cambridge,  and  in  which  he  puts  forth 
a  daring  energy.  But  he  also  works  better  and 
at  an  earlier  age.  He  can  leave  his  country, 
make  the  tour  of  Europe  and  of  the  world  at 
an  age  when,  in  France,  he  is  still  crouching 
under  his  mother's  petticoats.  He  goes  straight 
ahead,  with  that  clear  if  somewhat  short-sighted 
vision,  that  rectitude  of  manner  and  judgment 
by  which  he  stoutly  confronts  life,  when  our 
boys,  after  long  years  of  study,  are  still  seeking 
their  way. 

He  also  brings  to  it  courage.  "A  boy  needs 
at  once  physical  and  moral  courage,"  under  pain 
of  being  "only  a  half -power."  l  He  has  both, 
and  consequently  is  a  full  power.  He  has  hard 
ened  his  muscles  and  disciplined  his  nerves  by 
the  practice  of  "football,"  "baseball,"  and  other 
rough  games.  He  has  disciplined  his  will  by 
learning  that  he  must  depend  upon  himself  and 
not  upon  the  support  of  his  family.  The  Ameri 
can  boy  and  girl  expect  nothing  from  their 
parents.  They  would  be  ashamed  to  ask,  she 
a  dowry,  he  an  establishment  in  business,  to 
have  life  made  for  them  instead  of  making  it 
for  themselves.  If  our  children  are  often  in 
telligences,  theirs  are  always  characters.  At  a 
bound,  on  leaving  school,  they  leap  into  life. 

1  76.,  p.  324. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  73 

"In  America  there  is,  strictly  speaking,  no 
adolescence.  From  his  earliest  years  the  man 
appears  and  begins  to  make  his  way  for  him 
self."1 

The  American  educational  system  is  naturally 
adapted  to  the  temperament  of  the  pupil.  It 
starts  with  this  training  in  liberty,  "self-gov 
ernment."  On  the  whole  it  is  simple,  prac 
tical,  the  same  for  all,  and  of  brief  duration. 
It  is  designed  to  make  men  and  not  "scholars," 
and  to  make  the  most  men  in  the  shortest  pos 
sible  time.  It  goes  straight  to  its  object. 

These  characteristics,  but  little  modified  at 
the  present  day,  impressed  Tocqueville.  "Even 
their  acquirements  partake  in  some  degree  of 
the  same  uniformity.  I  do  not  believe  that 
there  is  a  country  in  the  world  where,  in  pro 
portion  to  the  population,  there  are  so  few  igno 
rant  and  at  the  same  time  so  few  learned  indi 
viduals.  Primary  education  is  within  the  reach 
of  everybody;  superior  instruction  is  scarcely 
to  be  obtained  by  any."2  Things  have  changed 
in  the  sense  that  numerous  and  splendid  uni 
versities  have  been  founded.  But  the  higher 
education  there  dispensed  does  not  differ  in 
spirit  from  primary  education;  it  simply  pro- 

1 /&.,  p.  324.  2  De  Tocqueville,  op.  cit.,  I,  65. 


74          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

longs  and  completes  it.     The  purpose  remains 
the  same,  to  give  useful  notions. 

The  American  concerns  himself  but  little 
with  culture,  considering  it  a  luxury  good  for  a 
few  dilettanti,  but  which  does  not  "pay,"  and 
which,  as  such,  appears  somewhat  suspicious 
to  the  positive  Yankee  mind.  Knowledge  for 
the  sake  of  knowledge  seems  to  him  not  worth 
while.  He  would  almost  reproach  it  for  re 
tarding  progress  by  lingering  over  chimeras, 
instead  of  welcoming  it  and  laying  hold  upon 
its  realities.  Even  truth  ought  to  be  "instru 
mental"  1  and  serve  us  as  a  mount2  upon  which 
to  ride  by  way  of  experience  in  search  of  dis 
coveries  that  may  contribute  to  physical  well- 
being  and  moral  betterment.  Education  is  only 
a  means,  not  an  end,  it  is  an  accessory  or  an 
auxiliary  which  has  no  value  in  itself.  It  is 
simply  expected  to  provide  man  with  a  baggage 
of  useful  information,  strictly  sufficient  to  pre 
vent  his  being  held  back  in  his  progress.  More 
than  elsewhere  universal  education  is  necessary 
in  a  country  where  there  are  no  ready-made 
careers,  and  every  one  needs  a  "kit  of  intellec 
tual  tools"  which  will  enable  him  to  adapt  him 
self  to  the  various  exigencies  with  which  he 
may  find  himself  confronted.  But  he  does  not 

1  William  James,  Pragmatism.  2  76. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  75 

propose  to  encumber  himself  with  superfluous 
trifles,  especially  not  with  that  literary  and 
artistic  cultivation  which  properly  belongs  to 
gilded  idleness.  He  must  leave  school  with  a 
practical  and  supple  intellect,  and  thorough  ac 
quaintance  with  a  sufficient  number  of  elemen 
tary  notions.  As  time  goes  on  he  will  acquire, 
according  to  need,  the  technical  knowledge 
special  to  a  given  situation,  either  in  the  ap 
propriate  institute,  or  more  often  in  the  shop 
or  the  office. 

Nearly  all  passing  through  the  same  primary 
school,  subjected  to  the  same  American  disci 
pline,  children  find  the  few  differences  levelled 
which  might  still  remain  between  them,  and  it 
is  in  school,  above  all,  that  they  become  "Amer 
icanized."  "The  great  melting-pot  of  America, 
the  place  where  we  are  all  made  Americans  of, 
is  the  public  school,  where  men  of  every  race 
and  every  origin  and  of  every  station  in  life 
send  their  children,  or  ought  to  send  their  chil 
dren,  and  where,  being  mixed  together  and  in 
fused  with  the  American  spirit,  the  youngsters 
are  developed  into  American  men  and  American 
women."  1 

In  this  sense  the  model  American  pupil  is  the 
American  savant.  He  is  a  sort  of  superior  work- 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  97. 


76          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

man,  an  artisan  of  genius.  There  are  few  pure 
theorists  in  the  United  States;  they  have  not 
produced  a  Descartes,  a  Leibnitz,  a  Newton, 
vast  synthetic  minds  arriving  at  a  general  con 
ception  of  the  universe,  a  method  that  revolu 
tionizes  science.  But  they  give  birth  to  an 
Edison,  that  is  to  say,  to  an  empirical  creator. 
He  is  not  a  mathematician,  he  does  not  align 
equations,  does  not  find  the  universe  at  the  end 
of  his  calculations.  But  he  observes,  he  ferrets 
out,  he  delves,  he  experiments,  he  mingles,  he 
twists  and  untwists  his  threads;  he  is  a  brain 
occupying  itself  with  visions  rather  than  with 
ideas.  Genius  itself,  in  America,  lacks  spread 
of  wings;  its  sight  is  short  and  immediate;  it 
knows  not  how  to  wait,  it  must  realize.  Huret 
well  perceived  this  characteristic.  "What  they 
seek,"  he  says,  speaking  of  American  inventors 
and  men  of  research,  "is  abstractions  verified 
by  palpable  realities.  They  understand  only 
with  their  eyes."1 

Which  is  to  say  that  though  the  American 
may  be  an  idealist  he  is  almost  never  a  concep- 
tualist.  "The  American  mind  shuns  general 
ideas;  it  never  addresses  itself  to  theoretic  re 
search."  2  "The  American  mind  has  very  clear 

1  Huret,  De  New-York  a  la  Nouvelle-Orleans. 

2  De  Tocqueville,  Democracy  in  America,  II,  pp.  20,  21,  passim. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  77 

but  very  limited  notions  of  things  and  ideas. 
It  never  generalizes,  for  generalization  requires 
meditation,  and  we  are  considering  a  nation 
of  men  of  action."1  Not  that  he  is  without 
imagination,  but  his  imagination  is  at  once  con 
crete  and  schematic;  it  clearly  shows  him  things, 
and  in  things  their  elements,  their  more  or  less 
ingenious  modes  of  combination,  the  mecha 
nism  that  brings  them  together  and  makes 
them  work;  but  though  imagination  may  an 
alyze,  it  never  transcends  vision.  It  analyzes, 
at  need  it  amplifies,  but  it  lacks  wings.  America 
can  produce  an  Edgar  Poe,  but  not  a  Victor 
Hugo.  "Practical  sense  .  .  .  dominates  fancy."  2 
In  the  field  of  science  the  American  imagination 
invents  new  mechanisms,  but  it  formulates  no 
new  system. 

The  American  educational  system  feels  the 
effect  of  this.  It  is  complete  but  limited.  It 
consists  almost  exclusively  of  concrete  notions, 
of  facts  rather  than  ideas,  or  of  ideas  suggested 
by  facts,  and  making  use  of  them.  As  with 
science,  teaching  is  a  business,  and  to  be  a  good 
business  it  must  pay. 

1  Huret,  op.  cit.,  p.  93. 

2  Les  £tats-Unis  et  la  France.    Address  of  M.  Boutroux,  p.  9. 


78          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

IV 

THE  MAN 

A  poor  man  who  aspires  to  be  rich. — His  energy. — His  faculty 
of  adaptation  to  any  task. — The  "business  man." — The 
strenuous  life. — The  sense  of  opportunity. — Self-confidence. 
— Incomplete  but  powerful  life  of  the  American. — The  mys 
ticism  of  activity. 

What  sort  of  man  comes  forth  from  such  a 
school?  A  man  prepared  to  face,  or  rather,  to 
defy  life.  To  understand  him  one  must  take 
account  both  of  his  starting-point  and  of  the 
object  which  he  proposes  to  attain.  He  is  a 
poor  man  who  aspires  to  become  rich. 

A  poor  man,  whatever  his  origin,  and  it  be 
hooves  him  not  to  forget  it.  De  Rousiers  ad 
mires  "this  ingenious  mechanism  which  con 
strains  the  son  of  a  millionaire  to  eat  his  bread 
in  the  sweat  of  his  brow."  l  Emerson,  with  his 
characteristic  pungent  vigor,  strongly  brings 
out  this  trait:  Our  country  is  a  country  of 
poor  men;  the  human  race  has  spread  abroad 
upon  this  continent  to  do  justice  to  itself;  all 
men  are  in  shirt-sleeves;  they  put  on  no  airs 
like  the  poor  rich  of  the  cities,  who  desire  to 
pass  themselves  off  as  rich,  but  they  take  off 
their  coats  and  work  hard  when  labor  is  sure  to 
bring  in  returns.2 

1  De  Rousiers,  La  Vie  Am&ricaine,  p.  412.  2  Emerson,  Essays. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  79 

Again,  this  poor  man  is  straightforward;  he 
has  not  behind  him  a  long  past  of  glory,  military, 
artistic,  scientific,  or  literary,  opening  a  perspec 
tive  to  his  activity,  or  impelling  it  in  various 
directions.  He  has  no  model  outside  of  himself, 
and  he  finds  few  ideas  within  himself.  He  there 
fore  naturally  sets  before  himself  the  one  object 
conceivable  for  a  man  whom  nothing,  either 
within  or  without,  deflects  from  a  certain  course: 
the  making  of  money.  Wealth  is  the  one  idea 
of  men  who  have  no  ideas.  "Why  do  men 
desire  to  become  rich  ?  Solely  from  the  absence 
of  ideas.  We  are  first  without  thought,  and 
then  we  discover  that  we  are  without  money."  l 

Finally,  he  has  the  contagion  of  example. 
Everything  around  him  invites  him  to  hunt 
the  dollar.  "Here  a  living  is  so  easily,  so 
abundantly  earned.  Easily  because  it  suffices 
to  love  work;  abundantly  because  every  effort 
is  rewarded  without  parsimony."  2  He  knows 
that  there  is  room  for  all,  and  that  every  effort 
is  certain  of  its  result.  He  has  seen  not  many 
individual  successes,  but  "states  in  some  sort 
improvised  by  chance."3  Often  such  states 
have  been  the  work  of  one  man,  or  of  a  handful 
of  men.  A  railway  is  planned,  a  station  built, 

1  Ib.  2  76. 

3  De  Tocqueville,  De  la  Democratic  en  Amerique,  I,  82, 


80          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

and  around  it  are  grouped  a  few  wooden  shan 
ties.  At  once  electric  cars  are  running  in  streets 
barely  blocked  out,  but  lighted  with  arc-lamps; 
a  bank  is  built,  and  a  church.  That  force  of 
attraction  that  emanates  from  a  superior  will 
draws  to  itself  and  to  the  barely  sketched  proj 
ect  other  wills,  less  powerful  but  not  less  ar 
dent,  that  circle  in  its  orbit.  Thus  were  founded 
New  Bedford,  Lynn,  and  many  another  city. 
They  were  the  work  of  one  man,  they  would 
not  have  been  if  he  had  not  been,  they  would 
have  been  elsewhere  if  he  had  so  willed.  "Each 
of  these  men,  if  they  were  transparent,  would 
seem  to  you  not  so  much  men  as  walking  cities, 
and  wherever  you  put  them  they  would  build 
one."  *  Our  young  American  says  to  himself: 
"I  will  be  that  man."  And  he  does  his  best 
to  be  such  a  man. 

He  finds  added  stimulant  in  his  personal 
activity,  and  in  the  education  that  he  has  re 
ceived.  In  his  activity  because,  for  him,  the 
important  thing  is  to  be  busy;  to  work  while 
travelling,  while  eating,  one  would  almost  say, 
while  sleeping.  He  lives  in  express-trains, 
changes  cars  ten  times  a  day,  sleeps  in  a  "Pull 
man"  to  save  time,  is  always  hanging  over  the 
telephone  or  the  telegraph,  no  sooner  finishes 

1  Emerson,  The  Conduct  of  Life  :  Fate. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          81 

one  thing  than  he  begins  three  others.  He  is 
like  an  Englishman  who  should  know  neither 
"home"  nor  "holiday."  They  are  all  like  this, 
"a  race  saturated  with  electricity,  hurrying 
along  at  top  speed,  and  whose  ideal  appears 
to  be  the  paroxysm."  * 

Furthermore,  his  education,  elementary,  hasty, 
and  overloaded,  has  prepared  him  for  all  sorts 
of  works  without  especially  fitting  him  for  any 
one.  He  would  easily  have  become  an  excellent 
specialist  on  any,  for  he  has  an  aptness  for 
detail  and  precision,  but  he  is  generally  indif 
ferent  to  specialization,  and  ready  to  accept 
any  occupation.  "His  capacity  is  more  gen 
eral,  the  sphere  of  his  intelligence  is  larger,"  2 
but  he  is  not  more  interested  in  any  one  system 
of  operations  than  in  any  other;  "he  is  no  more 
bound  to  the  old  method  than  to  the  new;  he 
has  formed  no  habits"  3  Now  a  profession  is  a 
habit,  and  the  most  inveterate  of  all  habits. 

The  American  has  no  profession.  He  passes 
with  a  haste  disconcerting  to  us  from  one  busi 
ness  to  another,  wholly  different.  "Last  year 
I  was  an  engineer;  this  year  I  shall  be  a  jour 
nalist."  The  following  year  he  will,  perhaps, 
be  a  gold-seeker,  a  farmer,  or  a  banker.  Were 

1  Huret,  De  New-York  a  la  Nouvelle-OrUans,  p.  322. 

2  De  Tocqueville,  op.  <nt.,  II,  415.  3  /&.,  II,  415,  416. 
4  De  Rousiers,  La  Vie  AmSricaine,  p.  621. 


82          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

he  to  do  the  same  thing  for  twenty  years,  the 
twenty-first  he  could  with  perfect  ease  shift 
his  gun  to  the  other  shoulder,  and  engage  in  an 
entirely  new  enterprise. 

This  inconstancy  is,  however,  only  appar 
ent,  and  unity  of  direction  is  found  through 
diversity  of  occupations.  At  bottom,  all  Ameri 
cans  practise  the  same  profession,  that  of  the 
"business  man,"  the  promoter  of  affairs;  and 
this  profession  includes  all  the  others.  The 
newspaper-boy  on  the  train  is  a  business  man. 
Edison  inventing  a  way  to  ward  off  submarine 
torpedoes  is  a  business  man.  Even  President 
Wilson,  at  the  same  time  head  of  the  army, 
diplomatist,  and  superintendent  of  agriculture, 
is  a  business  man. 

The  business  man  may  be  recognized  by  two 
characteristics:  the  limited  character  of  each 
of  his  undertakings,  and  the  facility  with  which 
he  adapts  himself  to  new  conditions.  These 
two  characteristics  are  found  in  all  Americans. 

1.  They  engage  in  business.  Each  under 
taking,  by  itself  considered,  is  a  special  opera 
tion,  sufficient  in  itself;  it  is  held  to  produce 
the  maximum  of  results  in  the  minimum  of 
time.  Once  organized  it  gives  no  more  con 
cern,  and  the  head  passes  on  to  another.  And 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  83 

so  on  indefinitely.  There  is,  therefore,  not  so 
much  a  continuity  of  effort  as  a  succession  of 
multiplied  efforts  which  need  not  so  much  to 
be  co-ordinated  as  to  be  continually  renewed. 
The  life  of  the  "business  man"  does  not  de 
mand  unity,  at  least  externally;  it  can  occupy 
itself,  and  it  is  interested  in  occupying  itself, 
along  as  many  different  lines  as  his  activity 
can  devise,  construct,  and  carry  on.  It  em 
braces  a  series  of  almost  instantaneous  presents 
or  very  near  futures;  it  is  an  addition,  a  totali 
zation,  a  juxtaposition  of  parts.  Why  should 
he  have  a  "calling,"  that  is  to  say,  narrow  the 
sphere  of  his  activity  and  limit  its  profits? 

2.  As  a  result,  the  novelty  of  an  enterprise  is 
to  the  business  man  not  an  obstacle  but  an  at 
traction.  He  does  not  remind  himself  that  he 
knows  nothing  about  it,  but  rather  tells  him 
self  that  he  is  capable  of  adapting  himself  to 
it.  Not  being  cramped  by  routine,  he  sees  in 
a  new  line  of  undertaking  only  new  and  larger 
possibilities  of  success,  and  all  the  more  that 
he  does  not,  like  the  European,  live  in  a  closed 
circle  in  which  to-day  is  as  yesterday,  and 
to-morrow,  to  all  appearance,  will  be  but  the 
copy  of  to-day.  "The  American  lives  in  a 
world  of  progress;  everything  around  him  is 
ceaselessly  changing,  and  each  movement  ap- 


84          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

pears  to  be  a  progress.  The  idea  of  the  new  is 
in  his  mind  intimately  allied  to  the  idea  of  the 
better."  1  He  therefore  consents  willingly  to 
change  the  direction  of  his  effort  if  he  sees 
reason  to  believe  that  he  will  find  more  favor 
able  opportunities  in  another  career.  To  be 
keen  on  the  scent  of  opportunity  and  to  seize 
it  when  it  presents  itself — all  America  is  in  this 
thought.  "America  is  opportunity,"  said  Em 
erson,  and  opportunity  presents  itself  everywhere 
in  a  new  country,  "opportunity  of  time,  of  con 
jecture,  of  place."  2  The  thing  is  to  know  how 
to  profit  by  it,  and  in  this  the  young  American 
is  not  found  wanting. 

He  is  guided  by  a  twofold  faith:  he  has  faith 
in  success,  and  above  all  he  has  faith  in  himself. 
He  has  faith  in  success — sometimes,  indeed,  too 
blind  a  faith.  "The  Americans  pursue  facts 
.  .  .  they  pursue  success,  not  talent."  3  This 
is  because  success  is  the  sign  of  talent,  and  for 
them  a  sign  that  never  deceives.  If  they  care 
for  titles,  for  decorations,  for  a  conspicuous 
name,  and,  above  all,  for  money,  which  in  the 
country  of  the  dollar  consecrates  titles,  decora 
tions,  and  names,  it  is  because  in  money  they  see 
the  proof,  and  the  only  proof  which  counts  to 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  cit,  II,  p  416. 

2  Les  £tats-Unis  et  la  France.     Address  of  Walter  V.  Berry,  p.  123. 
8  Emerson,  Essays. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  85 

them,  the  material,  visible,  tangible  proof  of 
inward  worth.  Money  is  only  a  criterium,  but 
it  is  an  infallible  and  indispensable  criterium. 
An  unsuccessful  effort  is  a  blameworthy  effort; 
an  unsuccessful  man  is  an  incompetent  man. 
Genius  may  not  dwell  in  a  garret;  it  must  choose 
a  palace  for  its  home. 

Therefore,  one  ought  to  succeed;  but  the 
American  is  convinced  that  he  can  succeed,  and 
this  conviction,  which  in  itself  is  a  force,  is  gen 
erally  well  founded.  In  this  country  where 
success  is  on  the  whole  easy,  one  must  be  very 
incapable  or  very  unskilful  not  to  be  able  to 
overcome  misfortune.  This  state  of  things 
cannot  but  encourage  in  the  inhabitant  of  the 
United  States  that  self  which  is  the  privilege  of 
royal  natures,1  and  let  us  add  the  best  quality 
of  the  man  of  action.  Therefore  he  does  not 
quail  before  the  first  check  nor  the  tenth. 
Either  the  enterprise  could  not  have  been 
profitable,  or  it  was  not  adapted  to  his  facul 
ties.  He  must  find  something  else,  and  he 
seeks  until  he  does  find.  He  will  discover  his 
true  aptitude  on  the  day  when  he  succeeds. 
One  knows  oneself  only  by  testing.  He  will 
test  himself  until  he  knows  himself. 

Such  is  our  man,  and  he  is  a  man.     Reverse 

1  Emerson,  Essays. 


86          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

does  not  depress  him;  success  excites  without 
dazzling  him,  and  urges  him  on  to  new  successes. 
Why  should  he  pause?  Victor  or  vanquished, 
he  will  hardly  find  resources  in  himself;  he  is 
not  intellectually  rich  enough  to  suffice  unto 
himself.  He  thinks  only  of  what  is  necessary 
to  light  his  way  and  wring  results  from  his  acts. 
Therefore  he  needs  to  spread  himself  abroad, 
to  exteriorize  himself  unceasingly.  "In  the 
ardent  life  of  New  York,"  says  M.  Lannelongue, 
"there  is  room  only  for  business  and  pleasure."  1 
And  pleasure  consists  chiefly  in  the  expenditure 
of  physical  energy,  or  in  the  life  of  society.  It 
has  no  place  for  solitary  meditation,  none  for 
the  pure  enjoyment  of  art,  for  philosophical  re 
flection.  It  is  a  manifestly  incomplete  existence. 
But  it  is  not  a  petty  existence.  For  if  the 
American  is  not  the  complete  man,  he  is  at 
least  completely  what  he  can  be.  He  gives 
only  what  he  has,  but  he  gives  without  reckon 
ing.  He  is  in  a  perpetual  state  of  tension  and 
of  hypertension.  And  in  this  sense  this  speci 
men  of  incomplete  humanity  has  something  of 
the  "superman."  He  is  not  a  hothouse  plant, 
but  the  luxuriant  plant  of  a  tropical  vegetation, 
exuberant  in  sap,  profusely  realizing  itself  in 
flowers  and  fruits.  His  is  a  rich  nature  which 

1  Un  Tour  du  Monde,  p.  336. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          87 

produces  in  feverish  haste.  "Everything  com 
bines  to  [.keep  the  soul  in  a  sort  of  feverish  agi 
tation,  which  admirably  disposes  it  to  all  sorts 
of  efforts,  and  maintains  it,  so  to  speak,  above  the 
common  level  of  humanity.  To  the  American 
all  life  goes  on  like  a  game,  a  period  of  revolu 
tion,  a  day  of  battle."  1  A  homespun  life  if 
ever  there  was  one,  under  all  its  apparent  lux 
ury  and  well-being.  "The  life  of  toil  and  effort, 
of  labor  and  strife."  2  This  it  is  which  gives  to 
the  men  in  the  street  "those  chins  and  jaws  by 
which,"  says  Huret,  "I  should  recognize  the 
American  type  at  the  ends  of  the  earth." 3 
This  it  is  which  gives  to  an  American  crowd,  so 
different  from  the  impressionable,  mobile,  and 
excitable  French  crowd,  its  character  of  con 
centrated  energy.  "It  is  cold,  it  is  indifferent, 
it  has  a  conscience,  an  aim;  each  individual 
here  seems  to  be  endowed  with  a  clear-cut  per 
sonality  and  a  determined  will."  4  This  life, 
rather  rich  than  unsophisticated,  rather  strong 
than  tender,  rather  active  than  intellectual,  and 
not  in  the  least  sentimental,  goes  straight  to  the 
new,  to  creating.  As  far  removed  from  mysti 
cism  as  possible  the  American,  nevertheless,  has 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  cit.,  I,  p.  548. 

2  Roosevelt,  quoted  in   Les  fitats-Unis  et  la  France,  p.  7.     Cf.  The 
Strenuous  Life,  p.  1. 

3  Op.  cit.,  p.  317.  4  Lannelongue,  op.  cit.,  p.  330. 


88          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

enthusiasm,  faith,  and  almost  the  mysticism  of 
action.  He  feels  himself  to  have  been  born  for 
great  things,  "the  greatest  things  in  the  world" 
—him,  the  citizen  of  "the  greatest  nation  in 
the  world";  who  knows?  perhaps  he  was  born 
to  make  or  to  remake  the  world  itself.  "Any 
American,  taken  at  random,  is  likely  to  be  a 
man  ardent  in  desire,  enterprising,  adventurous, 
above  all  an  innovator."  1  How  colorless  in  his 
elegance,  how  anaemic  in  his  fragile  grace,  ap 
pears  beside  this  younger  brother  the  elder 
brother  of  Europe,  of  a  delightful  but  somewhat 
outworn  type !  One  can  understand  how  we 
produce  an  effect  as  of  out-of-date  vapidity  to 
this  still  somewhat  rough-hewn  creature,  who  yet 
resolutely  takes  his  place  at  the  head,  and  pro 
poses  to  precede  and  guide  us  in  the  path  of 
progress. 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  cit.,  I,  p.  548. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          89 
V 

THE  WOMAN 

Equality  of  sexes. — Co-education. — Physical  life  and  "culture." 
— Marriage. — Independence  of  the  married  woman. — Fre 
quency  of  divorce. — Every  woman  a  feminist. 

A  like  sense  of  independence  and  strength  is 
found  in  the  American  woman,  not  attenuated 
but  perhaps  still  more  strongly  marked. 

In  fact,  like  the  man,  she  has  to  struggle  and 
attain,  while  she  has  one  more  adversary  to 
fight,  man  himself.  It  behooved  her  to  master 
this  rough,  hard  creature,  and  she  has  done  it. 
The  weaker  sex,  in  this  land  of  individual  domi 
nation,  dominates  the  stronger. 

To  reach  this  point  she  must  needs  become, 
first  the  equal  of  man,  and  then  his  superior. 
She  is  his  equal  so  far  as  will  goes,  she  proposes 
also  to  direct  her  own  life,  and  she  is  able  to 
do  it,  either  at  his  side,  if  she  marries  him,  or 
alone,  if  she  remains  single.  It  appears  that 
she  is  tending  to  become  his  superior,  not  indeed 
in  intelligence,  but  in  intellectuality  and  re 
finement.  She  has  more  leisure,  especially  if 
she  is  married,  and  she  by  no  means  devotes  it 
all  to  her  dressmaker  and  milliner.  If  culture 
finds  its  way  into  the  United  States  it  will  be 
in  great  part  owing  to  woman. 


90          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Side  by  side  with  a  femininity  that  is  some 
times  exquisite  there  is  in  her  something  mas 
culine,  or,  more  correctly,  virile.  She  is  like  a 
man  in  her  walk  and  her  freedom  of  manner. 
She  has  the  same  independence  of  judgment, 
and  perhaps,  in  the  case  of  the  young  girl,  she 
has  less  candor  than  the  boy. 

She  is  treated  like  a  man;  is  recognized  as 
having  the  same  rights,  while  preserving  certain 
privileges  of  her  sex.  But  no  man  dreams  of 
refusing  her  a  situation  or  a  position  because 
he  gives  her  flowers.  Almost  all  careers  are 
open  to  her,  often  including  public  functions. 
In  the  United  States  there  is  no  question  of 
sex. 

This  equality  is  manifest  from  infancy. 
"Boy"  and  "girl"  receive  the  same  education, 
physical  and  intellectual,  and  often  in  the 
same  school.  Co-education  appears,  to  this 
healthy  people  of  calm  senses,  to  be  a  perfectly 
natural  thing,  and  raises  none  of  the  problems 
which  we  in  France  find  such  difficulty  in  solv 
ing.  The  little  American  girl  has  nothing  of 
the  doll  about  her.  Like  her  brother  she  is  an 
active  creature,  fond  of  sport,  and  before  all 
"a  good  fellow";  like  him  she  plunges  into  life 
in  perfect  freedom;  like  him  she  develops  her 
body  according  to  its  nature  and  to  her  own; 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL  91 

she  practises  gymnastics,  rides  horseback,  loves 
the  open  air,  rides  the  bicycle  and  even  the 
motor-cycle;  if  she  is  rich  she  has  her  own 
automobile  and  runs  it.  Nor  does  she  forget 
to  prepare  herself  for  her  duties  as  a  wife  and 
housekeeper.  She  takes  cooking-lessons;  it  is 
even  not  an  unusual  thing  to  find  her  at  a  bench 
in  a  workshop — and  all,  according  to  the 
American  method,  in  the  way  of  heaping  up 
knowledge  rather  than  co-ordinating  it.  To 
sum  up,  there  is  nothing  distinctive  in  the  edu 
cation  she  receives. 

The  result  is  a  charming  creature,  original — 
at  least  to  us — sweet,  thoughtless,  often  super 
ficial  and  always  vital,  like  her  brother.  She 
resembles  him  much  more  than  a  French  sister 
resembles  her  brother,  and  this  is  easy  to  under 
stand,  since  she  has  always  associated  with 
boys  instead  of  being  kept  apart  from  them. 
There  is  in  her  not  the  slightest  trace  of  affec 
tation  or  artificiality.  She  is  as  pleasing  as  the 
Frenchwoman  without  having  been,  like  her, 
brought  up  to  please.  She  is  what  she  is  with 
out  pretension.  Huret  noted  in  her  "an  ab 
sence  of  timidity  without  a  shadow  of  effron- 
tery."  1 

She  is  not  innocent  in  the  sense  of  being  ig- 

1  De  New-York  a  la  Nouvelle-Orleans,  p.  60. 


92          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

norant.  "She  is  remarkable  rather  for  purity 
of  morals  than  for  chastity  of  mind."  1  Ac 
customed  from  early  life  to  look  the  world  in 
the  face,  aware  of  all  realities,  love  is  for  her  a 
simple,  healthy  thing,  of  which  she  speaks  with 
out  false  shame.  If  she  flirts  it  is  partly  for 
fun,  as  a  game,  without  a  thought  of  evil.  Her 
liberty  is  more  of  a  safeguard  to  her  than  a 
danger.  She  sees  and  receives  young  men, 
goes  about  with  them  like  a  comrade.  If  she 
leaves  home  to  complete  her  education  in  col 
lege,  her  fiance  will  visit  her  in  her  room  like 
any  other  friend,  and  no  one  finds  anything 
to  complain  of.  For  that  matter,  she  is  com 
pletely  left  to  herself,  travels  alone  from  one 
end  of  America  to  the  other,  crosses  the  ocean 
alone,  and  lives  alone  in  Europe.  Her  mother 
is  her  grown-up  friend,  as  the  father  is  the 
grown-up  friend  of  his  son;  nothing  more. 

She  often — more  often  than  the  young  man, 
and  with  reason — desires  to  be  instructed  and 
to  cultivate  her  mind.  She  studies  languages, 
ancient  and  foreign  literature,  somewhat  at 
haphazard,  not  without  profit  if  not  always 
with  good  taste.  At  Boston  and  elsewhere  may 
be  found  young  girls  who  are  excellent  Latin 
and  even  Greek  scholars.  They  study  art, 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  tit.,  II,  p.  242. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          93 

especially  painting,  in  which  they  often  display 
real  talent. 

In  general  the  American  girl  wishes  to  marry, 
but  she  does  not  make  marriage  the  aim  of  her 
existence,  and  all  the  less  that  she  knows  that 
she  will  be  sought  for  her  own  sake,  and  not 
"for  a  dowry  which  she  has  not  and  cannot 
have."  1  In  fact,  the  richest  girls  are  not  always 
the  most  sought  after;  there  are  daughters  of 
multimillionaires  who  are  not  married,  and  it 
is  not  always  because  they  did  not  wish  to  be. 

The  American  girl,  indeed,  looks  upon  mar 
riage  after  her  own  manner.  She  proposes  to 
choose  her  own  husband,  and  her  parents  have 
no  idea  of  imposing  one  upon  her.  In  the 
United  States  it  is  not  families  who  marry,  but 
individuals.  Therefore  nearly  all  marriages  are 
marriages  of  inclination.  But  they  are  seldom 
marriages  of  passion.  The  American  girl  knows 
little  of  "great  love."  Of  all  our  romantic  poets 
Musset  is  the  one  for  whom  she  cares  least. 
But  she  generally  has  a  high  consciousness  of 
duty,  and  will  be  a  faithful  if  not  a  tender  wife. 
Everything  considered,  the  average  American 
couple  is  morally  superior  to  the  average 
European. 

The    American    woman    has    also,    perhaps 

1  Laimelongue,  op.  cit.,  p.  336. 


94          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

above  all,  a  sense  of  her  rights.  Just  as  while 
she  remains  single  she  is  able  to  create  a  place 
in  society  for  herself,  just  so  much,  once  mar 
ried,  she  expects  her  husband  to  make  one  for 
her.  No  doubt  she  will  accept  reverses  and 
trials  with  courage,  but  in  principle  it  is  the 
husband's  part  to  make  money  and  the  wife's 
to  spend  it. 

She  is  too  independent  to  be  a  woman  of  the 
fireside.  The  conception  of  the  fireside,  the 
"home,"  hardly  squares  with  American  man 
ners.  It  is  something  not  easy  to  constitute  in 
this  life  of  perpetual  changes  and  journey  ings, 
with  the  difficulty  of  procuring  servants,  or, 
having  them,  of  being  well  served.  In  fact,  the 
need  of  a  home  is  less  keenly  felt  in  the  United 
States  than  in  Europe.  The  American  has  little 
sense  of  privacy.  The  sexes  desire  to  associate 
with  one  another  rather  than  to  find  completion 
in  one  another.  The  individual,  of  whatever 
sex,  is  sufficient  to  himself.  .  Among  us  the  iso 
lated  person  is  lost,  diminished. 

This  sense  of  mutual  independence  explains 
how  an  American  husband  and  wife  can  take 
their  meals  at  a  hotel,  or  live  in  a  "boarding- 
house,"  sometimes  even  when  they  have  chil 
dren.  It  is  this  which  makes  intelligible  those 
separations  of  several  months,  sometimes  of  one 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAt  95 

or  two  years,  which  would  hardly  be  tolerated 
in  Europe,  and  not  at  all  in  France.  The  wife 
lives  in  Paris  or  London,  Rome  or  Cairo,  while 
the  husband,  reduced  to  the  duty  of  banker, 
chiefly  reveals  his  conjugal  existence  by  the 
checks  that  he  sends  her  or  the  credit  which  he 
opens  for  her  in  New  York  or  Chicago.  They 
meet  as  they  had  parted,  with  the  "hand 
shake"  of  two  comrades  rather  than  the  kiss 
of  husband  and  wife. 

A  more  unhappy  result  of  this  independence 
is  the  frequency  of  divorce.  It  is  to  a  great 
extent  due  to  a  great  fearlessness  of  thought 
and  sentiment  allied  to  a  no  less  great  loyalty. 
For  infidelity  is,  on  the  whole,  pretty  rare,  and 
in  general  the  real  cause  of  divorce  is  incom 
patibility  of  temper,  and  a  hardly  veiled  mutual 
consent,  a  desire  to  live  together  no  longer. 

To  the  American,  and  still  less  to  the  Ameri 
can  woman,  marriage  is  not  an  eternal  engage 
ment.  They  do  not  bind  themselves  for  life, 
subordinating  themselves  one  to  the  other. 
They  come  together  in  some  sort  conditionally, 
if  not  provisionally,  reserving  their  liberty. 
From  the  bottom  of  their  hearts  they  sincerely 
desire  that  their  association  may  endure;  but 
not  that  it  shall  endure  at  all  cost.  This  is 


96          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

because  the  American  family,  as  we  have  already 
shown,  is  not  superior  to  the  individual;  it  is 
not  the  family  but  the  individual  that  consti 
tutes  the  social  unit.  The  family  is  simply  a 
natural  and  legal  group  of  self-governing  beings; 
it  exists  for  them,  and  not  they  for  it. 

A  dangerous  conception,  perhaps,  in  certain 
respects,  but  fundamentally  American  and  in 
dividualistic.  The  individual  must  exist,  in  a 
family  if  he  can,  outside  of  it  and  by  destroying 
it  if  he  must.  The  abuse  of  divorce  is  only  the 
price  paid  for  the  independence  of  the  con 
tracting  parties. 

Thus,  at  no  moment  of  her  life  does  the 
woman  vacate  her  liberty.  She  does  not  pass 
from  parental  tutelage  to  the  tutelage  of  a  hus 
band.  She  is  not  the  "eternal  minor"  of  the 
Code  Napoleon,  who  is  but  now  beginning  to 
emancipate  herself.  Before,  during,  and  after 
marriage,  daughter,  wife,  and  widow  or  divorced 
woman,  she  has  the  same  rights,  if  not  the 
same  duties;  she  never  belongs  to  any  one  but 
herself. 

The  American  knows  nothing  of  "the  law  of 
man,"  often  so  hard  upon  the  woman  of  Europe; 
he  knows  only  "the  law  of  the  human  being," 
which  is  quite  another  thing.  On  our  continent, 
when  one  reflects  upon  it,  the  condition  of 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          97 

woman,  at  times  very  agreeable,  often  very 
painful,  is  always  somewhat  contemptible.  Man 
never  treats  her  as  an  equal.  Either  he  exploits 
her  or  he  adulates  her;  but,  whether  beast  of 
burden  or  little  pet,  she  is  not  a  self-governing 
creature.  The  American,  less  refined  but  more 
loyal,  sees  in  her  a  being  like  unto  himself. 
He  jostles  her  in  the  street,  speaks  to  her  with 
out  lifting  his  hat,  does  not  give  her  his  seat  in 
the  street-car,  in  short,  he  treats  her  like  a  man, 
but  he  recognizes  in  her  without  evasion  all  a 
man's  rights.  Associate  or  adversary,  she  is 
always  a  comrade. 

And  the  American  woman  has  a  conscience. 
Often  superficial,  as  frivolous  as  a  Frenchwoman, 
and  more  so,  she  is  always  more  personal,  less 
"a  relative  of  man."  She  has  in  her  something 
of  Ibsen's  Nora.  Mrs.  Mackay,  the  wife  of  the 
billionaire,  writes  a  drama  of  free  love,  of  which 
Huret  has  translated  long  extracts.1  In  artless 
but  guileless  symbolism  she  rejects  all  the  servi 
tudes  of  conjugal  life.  This  is  not,  as  might 
have  been  the  case  in  France,  the  caprice  of  a 
rich  and  idle  woman  of  the  world.  It  is  a  very 
sincere  manifestation  (whatever  may  be  its 
artistic  or  philosophic  character)  of  a  profound 
instinct  of  independence,  and  even  of  revolt 

1  Huret.  De  New-York  d  la  Nouvelle-Orttans,  pp.  216 /. 


98          THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

against  possible  restraints.  When,  after  her 
final  liberation  the  heroine  exclaims,  "Hence 
forth  I  march  along  the  highway  of  life,  hearing 
above  me  the  rustling  of  the  strong  wings  of 
Truth  in  the  winds  of  eternal  Liberty,"  she  is 
speaking  like  an  American  woman.  In  thatii 
country,  from  the  richest  to  the  poorest,  every 
woman  is  a  feminist. 

There  is,  therefore,  hardly  a  special  psy 
chology  of  the  American  woman.  In  Europe  we 
seek  to  emphasize  that  which  distinguishes  her 
from  man.  In  the  United  States  the  types  tend 
to  draw  so  near  together  as  to  obliterate  all  dif 
ferences.  If  she  wills — and  at  times  she  does 
will — the  woman  can  do  great  things.  It  was 
the  women  who,  in  the  temperance  campaign, 
secured  the  triumph  of  their  ideas  in  certain 
States  of  the  Union.  It  would  seem  that  in  the 
present  war  they  propose  to  play  a  part  of  first 
importance.  They  have  done  much  to  save  the 
population  of  Belgium;  many  of  them,  regard 
less  of  the  submarine  danger,  have  crossed  and 
continue  still  to  cross  the  Atlantic  to  act  as 
nurses  on  the  French  front. 

Notwithstanding  which,  it  may  be  that 
woman  does  not  always  find  in  her  physically 
weaker  frame  the  same  power  of  resistance  as 
man.  But  obstacles,  if  they  exist,  are  within 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL          99 

her,  and  not  exterior  to  her.  She  may  be.  more 
easily  overcome,  or  she  may  gain  the  victory  at 
greater  cost,  but  she  is  admitted  to  the  conflict 
on  the  same  ground  and  with  like  arms.  Man 
does  not  make  use  of  his  superiority  to  bar  the 
way  before  her.  He  plays  his  game  loyally: 
"fair  play."  She  has  the  same  facilities  for  de 
velopment  as  he,  and  if  she  finds  in  herself  the 
same  resources  there  is  nothing  to  hinder  her 
from  using  them  precisely  as  he  does. 


VI 

THE  SOCIAL  ORGANIZATION 

The  danger  of  anarchy. — Its  remedies:  Personality  and  Morality. 
— 1.  Personality:  the  power  of  the  individual;  elimination 
of  the  weak;  America  the  country  of  victors. — 2.  Morality : 
Puritanism  and  Protestant  discipline;  personal  religion;  the 
sentiment  of  justice;  alliance  of  duty  and  interest;  idealiza 
tion  of  self-interest;  its  natural  prolongation  into  altruism. 
— The  individual  ideal. — The  new  human  type. — Emerson's 
"reforming  man." 

The  ideal  of  the  American  is  liberty,  conceived, 
first  of  all,  as  the  free  expenditure  of  untiring  ac 
tivity.  Each  proposes  to  "live  his  life"  in  its 
fullest  and  somewhat  Nietzschean  sense.  But 
is  there  not  danger  here?  Can  an  organized 
and  coherent  nation  ever  emerge  from  this  tu 
mult  of  individuals  thus  launched  into  the  con- 


100        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

flict,  elbowing  their  way  to  pass  the  others,  and 
not  hesitating  to  trample  upon  the  bodies  of 
those  who  fall  upon  the  road?  And  how  shall 
anarchy  be  prevented  in  such  a  competition  of 
unbridled  energies? 

The  remedy  lies  beside  the  evil,  or  rather  it 
resides  in  the  evil  itself;  in  the  formidable  explo 
sive  force  of  this  exceptional  personality.  The 
existence  of  America  as  a  nation  is  a  stake  won, 
a  paradox  realized.  America  has  not  avoided, 
not  even  overleaped,  but  overturned  the  ob 
stacle  by  a  headlong,  impassioned  movement 
which  carries  all  along  with  it,  thanks  to  an 
inward  "stimulus,"  a  spontaneous  impulse  ema 
nating  from  the  individual  himself;  he  finds 
within  himself  the  physical,  intellectual,  and 
moral  resources  which  enable  him  to  follow  his 
own  course  and  hew  his  way  with  no  hindrance 
from  his  neighbor,  and  also  without  himself 
checking  or  delaying  his  neighbor  in  the  race. 
"It  is  by  the  energy  of  individuals  that  American 
society  was  constituted  and  is  maintained."1 

That  which  first  strikes  one  in  the  United 
States  is  the  absence  of  organization,  that  is, 
of  concerted  and  collective  effort.  "There  is 
no  order  in  America;  this  is  everywhere  visible. 
Things  go  on,  no  one  knows  how,  under  the 

1  De  Rousiers,  La  Vie  Am&ricaine,  p.  682. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IpEAL         101 

impulse  of  a  wide-spread  and  continuous  energy; 
but  of  regular  order,  of  permanent  and  consecu 
tive  method,  not  a  trace."1  The  waste  of 
effort  is  manifest.  It  wells  up  from  all  direc 
tions,  at  all  times,  like  so  many  creations  ex 
nihilo,  absolute  beginnings.  America  is  the 
land  of  spontaneous  generation.  No  precon 
certed  plan,  no  general  view  of  the  whole;  iso 
lated  manifestations,  sporadic  and  disconcerting. 
It  is  the  original  chaos. 

But  from  this  chaos  emerges  a  world,  and  it 
orders  itself  as  naturally  as  it  was  born.  One 
is  reminded  of  the  atoms  of  Epicurus,  of  that 
whirlwind  in  which  all  elements  meet  and 
mingle  in  ephemeral  combinations,  ceaselessly 
making  and  unmaking  themselves,  gradually 
uniting  in  composites  increasingly  stable.  It  is 
the  property  of  life,  it  would  seem,  thus  to  mani 
fest  itself  freely  in  a  thousand  unforeseen,  un 
expected  forms;  it  asserts  itself  by  the  inner 
power  of  the  germ  which  follows  the  law  of  its 
development,  and  which,  though  it  renews  its 
substance  by  unceasing  borrowings  from  its 
surroundings,  draws  it  most  of  all  from  itself. 
Such  is  the  American,  living  in  the  first  place 
by  himself  and  upon  himself,  and  finally,  through 
many  collisions  and  much  opposition  organizing 

1  Huret.  De  New-York  &  la  Nouvelle-Orltans,  p.  56. 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

himself  for  better,  for  worse,  with  those  of  his 
kind. 

Had  he  been  weak  he  would  have  succumbed, 
or  rather,  the  weak  do  succumb,  as  the  feeble 
twig  is  thrown  off  by  the  vigorous  plant.  Amer 
ica  is  the  product  of  a  rigorous  twofold  selec 
tion.  At  his  origin,  first;  only  the  most  hardy, 
the  most  enterprising  individuals  ventured  the 
risk  of  emigrating,  and  among  these  only  the 
wisest  and  most  energetic  succeeded  in  taking 
root  and  making  a  permanent  place  for  them 
selves;  and  next,  a  continuous  selection,  for 
around  the  nucleus  which  these  formed  have 
gathered,  and  continue  to  gather,  in  successive 
waves  and  tides,  the  unemployed  forces  of 
Europe,  of  whom  America  unceasingly  elimi 
nates  and  grinds  to  pieces  the  "undesirable." 
This  nation  of  rich  men  springs  from  a  race  of 
poor  people,  with  robust  nerves,  muscles  of 
steel,  wills  of  iron,  of  whom  effort  is  the  law, 
and  work  the  condition  of  existence.  "Thus 
America  has,  as  it  were,  skimmed  the  cream  of 
the  peoples  of  the  Old  World;  this  is  why  the 
human  specimen  is  superior  here  to  what  it  is 
in  other  countries."  l 

America  is,  then,  a  nation  of  victors.  With 
no  convergence  of  effort,  all  have  come  to  form 
one  mass,  and  that  a  harmonious  mass.  It  is  a 

1  P.  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Les  fitats-Unis  au  XlXe  sticle.     Preface,  p.  ix. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         103 

mistake  to  think  that  two,  or  many,  strong 
personalities  cannot  exist  at  the  same  time. 
The  contrary  is  true.  The  strong  personality 
absorbs  or  destroys  the  weak  one;  what  could 
he  do  with  the  useless,  the  social  refuse  ?  They 
encumber  the  streets  and  must  be  swept  away. 
But  when  he  meets  his  equal  he  most  probably 
organizes  a  joint  effort.  Combining  and  co 
ordinating  themselves,  both  are  the  more  effi 
cient;  competition  leads  either  to  collaboration 
or  to  the  coexistence  of  parallel  and  solidary 
interests.  There  is  room  only  for  those  who 
count,  but  there  is  room  for  all  who  count. 
America  is  a  nation  of  equals — equal  in  strength 
and  equal  in  victory. 

Still,  energy  alone  would  not  have  sufficed 
to  make  her  what  she  is.  If  she  had  been 
founded  by  adventurers  and  gold-seekers  she 
would  have  been  the  equivalent  of  Mexico,  or 
rather  of  one  of  the  South  American  republics. 
"She  is  the  work  of  men  who,  having  made 
good  their  domination  over  the  material  ele 
ments  of  life,  have  gone  on  to  attain  domina 
tion  of  its  moral  elements,  without  which  an  or 
ganized  society  cannot  exist."  l  The  United 
States  are,  above  all,  the  work  of  the  Puritans. 

1  De  Rousiers.  Preface  to  the  translation  of  Roosevelt's  American 
Ideals,  p.  xi. 


104        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Thanks  to  them,  America  seems  to  be  the 
realization  of  a  great  hope,  that  of  the  regenera 
tion  of  the  human  race.  The  early  colonists  of 
New  England,  quitting  their  native  land,  fled 
from  a  land  of  perdition  to  seek  in  a  new  coun 
try  a  "land  of  liberty."  Urged  by  an  idea 
rather  than  by  necessity,  they  were  "pilgrims," 
seeking  new  shores  that  there  they  might  main 
tain  their  faith  without  suffering  persecution. 
They  brought  with  them  rigid  doctrines,  pure 
morals,  inflexible  discipline — so  many  bridles 
upon  the  unrestrained  appetites  too  natural  to 
a  conquering  people.  They  have  impressed  a 
strong,  perhaps  indelible,  moral  stamp  upon  the 
positive,  trafficking  beings  which  the  greater 
number  of  Americans  seem  to  be.  Their  in 
fluence,  the  first  in  date,  was  also  the  most  pro 
found;  mingling  with  all  succeeding  influences 
it  has  moulded  this  composite  individual:  the 
man  of  duty  who  is  at  the  same  time  the  man 
of  acquisitions. 

But  the  discipline  thus  required  could  have 
been  accepted  only  because  it  was  marvellously 
adapted  to  his  temperament.  Had  it  been  the 
Catholic  discipline,  imposing  a  strict,  passive 
obedience^  the  Credo  quia  absurdum,  it  would 
have  taken  no  hold  upon  the  fiercely  indepen 
dent  nature  of  the  immigrant.  On  the  contrary, 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         105 

the  Protestant  discipline,  founded  on  free  in 
vestigation  by  the  individual  conscience,  de 
manding  a  personal,  well-considered,  voluntary 
submission  to  a  freely  accepted  obligation, 
favored,  respected,  magnified  his  personal  in 
dependence.  It  was,  on  the  whole,  nothing 
else  than  the  principle  of  "self-government" 
applied  to  religious  matters.  By  its  triumph 
the  Puritans  endowed  America  with  a  con 
science;  owing  to  them  she  has  become  a  con 
science-directed  force. 

This  conscience  is  as  much  moral  as  religious, 
if  not  more  so.  All  Americans  are  not  Protes 
tants;  far  from  it;  but  most  of  them,  though 
perhaps  unconsciously,  are  more  or  less  Puri 
tans.  They  generally  draw  their  inspiration 
from  the  Bible.  But  the  Bible,  "the  Book,"  is 
only  a  guide,  an  adviser;  it  dictates  no  ready- 
made  conclusions;  it  suggests  a  line  of  conduct 
which  is  followed  only  after,  having  been  fully 
considered,  it  is  adopted.  Religion  in  America 
has  not  the  narrowly  confessional  character  of 
European  Catholicism;  it  is  an  individualistic 
religion,  a  religion  of  liberty.  Nine  Americans 
out  of  ten  will  tell  you  "I  belong  to  no  Church." 
Religious  sects  swarm  over  the  territory  of  the 
Union,  each  interpreting  the  Bible  in  their  own 
way,  because  it  is  the  particular  property  of 


106        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

none  of  them.  Religious  tolerance  proceeds 
from  the  same  principle  as  tolerance  in  matters 
political,  social,  industrial,  or  commercial.  Each 
may  shape  his  life  as  he  deems  good :  his  material 
life  by  his  labor,  his  moral  life  by  his  personal 
interpretation  of  the  Scriptures. 

This  sincere  faith  is  not  a  mere  consent  of 
the  mind,  it  is  an  active,  practical  faith.  The 
American  does  not  ask  the  church  to  be  his 
refuge,  his  door  of  salvation,  his  great  consola 
tion  in  affliction.  He  expects  it  to  play  a  use 
ful  part,  and  God  himself,  as  William  James 
says,  must  be  of  use,  must  render  services  to 
man.  "If  the  hypothesis  God  works  satis 
factorily  ...  it  is  true." 1  If,  upon  reflec 
tion,  he  decides  for  spiritualism  against  ma 
terialism,  it  is  because  the  hypothesis  matter 
is  sterile,  idle,  does  not  pay,  whereas  the  hy 
pothesis  spirit  has  over  it  "a practical  superior 
ity."  2  In  an  essentially  mechanical  world, 
where  only  the  actual  exists,  with  no  horizon 
and  no  future  prospect,  man  would  speedily 
deem  his  activities  useless,  and  do  what  he 
found  to  do  without  pleasure.  Whereas  God, 
securing  to  us  the  existence  of  "an  ideal  order 
that  shall  be  permanently  preserved,"  3  gives 
us  in  some  sort  a  heart  to  work,  makes  our  task 

1 W.  James,  Pragmatism.  2  Ib,  '  Ib. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         107 

easy  and  glad  by  the  prospect  of  success,  it 
being  perfectly  understood  that  this  success  is 
still  our  own  work,  that  God  does  not  substi 
tute  himself  for  us,  that  he  is  present  simply  to 
stimulate  us  and  give  tone  to  our  effort.  Here, 
more  than  anywhere  else,  is  the  proverb  true: 
"Help  yourself  and  Heaven  will  help  you." 

Thus  it  is  not  a  question  of  adoration,  but  of 
active  collaboration  with  a  Creator  who,  being 
an  American,  cannot  have  taken  much  rest 
since  the  seventh  day  of  creation.  The  Ameri 
can  feels  that  his  God  is  working  beside  him, 
and  he  works  with  him.  His  religion  becomes 
a  part  of  his  life,  modifies  and  moulds  it. 
Whether  he  be  Salvationist,  Mormon,  or  what 
ever  other  sect,  his  faith  penetrates  and  forms 
his  tastes,  his  habits,  the  cut  of  his  clothes, 
the  ordering  of  his  meals.  It  organizes  the 
family,  determines  the  ceremonial  of  marriage, 
the  relations  between  employer  and  employed. 
Heaven  comes  down  to  earth,  the  American 
gives  form,  strength,  and  vigor  to  whatever  he 
believes. 

Ministers  of  religion  are  naturally  cut  out  of 
the  same  cloth  as  their  people.  According  to 
their  preaching  the  advantages  of  religion  are 
not  purely  of  a  spiritual  order.  They  dwell 
upon  its  benefit  and  profit  in  this  world,  upon 


108        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  advantages  that  liberty  and  the  public  or 
der  draw  from  it.  In  their  minds  the  joys  of 
heaven  are  upon  a  par  with  well-being  here 
below,  and  the  same  effort  procures  them  both. 
Let  us  be  religious  that  we  may  be  moral,  and 
let  us  be  moral  that  we  may  be  happy. 

This  morality  is  none  the  less  rigid,  that  in 
the  United  States  happiness  is  not  to  be  won 
without  pains.  Puritanism  prescribed  narrow 
regulations  of  which  certain  present-day  pro 
hibitions  are  as  a  feeble  echo.  It  forbade  travel 
ling,  cooking,  cutting  hair  and  shaving  on  Sun 
day.  "The  husband  may  not  kiss  his  wife  nor 
the  mother  her  child  on  Sundays  and  holi 
days."  1  Practices  have  been  mitigated,  but  the 
interdiction  of  whiskey  and  of  providing  meals 
on  Sunday  beyond  a  certain  hour  still  bears  the 
mark  of  its  origin. 

In  any  case,  the  essential  element  remains, 
that  is  to  say,  the  spirit  which  inspired  them. 
The  moral  sentiment  which  guides  the  American 
in  all  his  undertakings  is  the  sense  of  personal 
dignity,  "self-respect."  For  if  he  desires  to  be 
respected  by  others,  he  imperiously  feels  the 
necessity  of  not  being  lowered  in  his  own  eyes. 
Hence  arises,  in  this  nation  of  business  men,  a 

1  M.  Rodrigues  has  here  fallen  victim  to  an  ancient  and  long-ago  ex 
ploded  joke.     Note  by  the  Translator. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         109 

solicitude  for  purity,  a  rectitude  of  thought  and 
act,  surprising  to  others.  The  president  of  Har 
vard,  Mr.  Roosevelt,  and  many  educators, 
preach  to  students  the  chastity  of  young  men 
before  marriage.  Such  a  crusade  in  Europe, 
and  notably  in  France,  would  be  likely  to  pro 
voke  a  laugh  or  at  least  excite  a  smile  in  the 
audience.  Over  there,  those  who  thus  teach 
are  listened  to  and  followed  by  the  great  major 
ity  of  their  hearers — seventy  per  cent,  if  we  are 
to  believe  the  testimonies  gathered  by  Huret.1 

If  there  are  exceptions,  they  keep  their  own 
counsel.  A  man  does  not  boast  of  his  "good 
fortunes,"  he  blushes  for  them  as  for  a  weak 
ness.  To  be  seen  in  public  with  a  woman  of 
doubtful  character  constitutes  a  blemish  which 
would  close  the  doors  of  a  university  against 
one.  As  for  respect  for  young  girls,  we  have 
already  seen  that  it  is  absolute.  Is  not  this  a 
"living  ideal"  far  superior  to  the  so-called 
idealistic  romanticism  under  which  the  young 
men  of  Europe  conceal  many  faults  and  much 
corruption  ? 

For  the  same  reasons  of  moral  cleanliness  the 
American  keeps  his  engagements.  He  is  severe, 
or  rather  "exact,"  in  business.  This  is  the  very 
word  by  which  one  of  them  characterized  the 

1  Huret,  De  New -York  a  la  Nouvelle-OrUans,  p.  145. 


110        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

superwealthy  Rockefeller.1  But  he  is  loyal. 
What  is  due  is  due.  Nothing  more,  we  may  be 
sure,  for  with  him  the  spirit  of  a  contract  and 
its  letter  are  one.  From  this  point  of  view  the 
working  man  of  the  United  States  is  the  model 
of  working  men,  the  only  one,  perhaps,  who 
gives  to  the  word  work  its  full  but  strict  sense. 
If  he  agrees  for  eight  hours  he  gives  eight  hours, 
not  a  minute  more,  not  a  minute  less.  But  they 
are  eight  hours  of  concentrated,  tenacious,  uni 
form  work,  not  a  tug  at  the  collar,  no  feverish 
haste,  but  neither  is  there  lounging,  bungling, 
slighting,  spoiling  of  tools.  One  knows  that  he 
is  to  be  counted  upon,  and  what  may  be  expected 
of  him — no  surprises,  either  good  or  bad.  On 
his  part,  the  employer  feels  bound  in  honor  to 
keep  his  agreement.  He  is  not  in  the  habit  of 
chaffering  as  to  pay,  and  if  he  reckons  upon  a 
large  profit,  he  has  no  notion  of  realizing  it  at 
the  expense  of  his  employees.  As  a  general 
rule,  the  American  revolts  at  the  idea  of  ex 
ploiting  the  labor  of  another.  Every  task 
should  receive  its  due  wage.  No  unpaid  labor, 
nor  any  overpaid  or  underpaid  work. 

The  basis  of  American  morals  is  the  practical 
synthesis  of  strict  justice  and  properly  under- 

1  Huret,  De  San  Francisco  au  Canada. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         111 

stood  interest.  The  American  has  a  keen  sense 
of  both  these  sentiments,  and  finds  them  in 
perfect  agreement:  justice  is  the  interest  of 
others  which  I  recognize  to  be  as  legitimate  as 
my  own;  interest  is  justice  to  me,  my  legitimate 
aspiration  after  a  better  condition  of  being. 
The  United  States  have  reduced  utilitarianism 
to  practice.  It  should  be  recognized  to  their 
glory  that  in  the  industrial  as  in  the  political 
domain — as  we  shall  shortly  see — their  most 
immediate  and  most  evident  interest  coincides 
with  the  highest  ends  of  the  human  conscience. 
It  was  already  thus  in  Tocqueville's  time. 
"The  greater  number  of  them,"  he  said  of  the 
Americans,  "believe  that  an  intelligent  appre 
hension  of  his  own  interest  is  sufficient  to  induce 
a  man  to  be  just  and  honest."  l  "In  the  United 
States  they  almost  never  say  that  virtue  is 
beautiful.  They  show  that  it  is  useful,  and  they 
prove  it  daily."  2  The  American  is  an  intelli 
gent  egoist. 

In  fact,  the  idea  of  justice  is,  in  many  respects, 
a  selfish  idea,  but  this  is  a  comprehensive  self 
ishness.  It  asserts  the  right,  and  what  is  the 
right — that  recognition  of  the  human  person 
and  his  real  value — but  the  most  legitimate 
selfishness?  I  cease  to  be  a  means;  I  propose 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  rit.,  II,  p.  362.  2  /&.,  Ill,  p.  199. 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

to  be  an  end;  I  am  I.  And  by  this  act  I  claim 
for  my  I  all  that  I  recognize  to  be  due,  for  the 
same  reasons,  to  the  I  of  others.  Suum  cuique, 
neminem  laede,  so  many  formulas  which  at  once 
recognize  and  circumscribe  the  sphere  of  action 
of  each  individuality.  The  American  does  not 
measure  too  stingily  this  suum,  but  neither  does 
he  exaggerate  it.  It  must  correspond  with  the 
worth  of  effort  put  forth,  and  especially  of  the 
result  attained.  It  therefore  constitutes  a  guar 
antee,  a  security  for  the  worker,  and  in  the  end 
it  insures  a  better  return  for  his  work. 

If  this  conception  is  narrow,  it  is  intentionally 
so.  It  leaves  no  place  for  pity  and  charity. 
It  is  not  sentimental.  The  American  hardly 
understands  sentiment,  and  is  suspicious  of  it; 
he  sees  in  it  a  sign  rather  of  weakness  than  of 
kindliness,  leading  to  partiality  and  injustice, 
shocking  the  respect  for  liberty  and  equality 
which,  in  his  country,  takes  precedence  of  all 
other  qualities.  Not  that  the  American  cannot 
be  generous;  far  from  it;  he  is  splendidly, 
royally  generous.  Is  it  necessary  to  remind 
our  readers  that  it  is  mainly  due  to  him  that 
Belgium  has  been  fed  ?  But  granting  this,  even 
in  the  spontaneity  of  his  act  he  follows  his 
reason  rather  than  his  heart.  His  generosity 
does  not  spring  from  an  impulse  of  sensibility, 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         113 

but  from  a  revolt  of  conscience.  He  is  more 
properly  repairing  outraged  right  than  perform 
ing  a  gracious  act.  A  contract  had  been  vio 
lated  by  one  of  the  contracting  parties.  He 
does  not  deem  himself  merely  a  third  party; 
his  solicitude  for  neutrality  compels  him  in 
some  sort  to  do  his  part,  and  a  large  part,  in 
paying  what  he  looks  upon  as  the  debt  of  pros 
perous  humanity  to  humanity  outrageously  de 
spoiled. 

Even  in  this  case,  even  in  this  broad  concep 
tion,  he  is  true  to  his  principle:  morality  gains 
by  resting  upon  a  contract.  It  presupposes 
freedom  and  equality  in  the  case  of  the  contract 
ing  parties.  It  has,  therefore,  no  call  to  be 
charitable,  to  make  gifts;  its  duty  is  to  be  just, 
to  reimburse,  to  make  retribution. 

Self-interest  is  therefore  justified.  There  is 
nothing  mean  or  petty  in  it.  Even  where  it 
appears  the  most  cold-blooded  it  is  often  the 
most  fruitful  in  good.  Emerson  often  praises 
it,  as  in  "some  strong  transgressor  like  Jefferson, 
or  Jackson,  who  first  conquers  his  own  govern 
ment,  and  then  uses  the  same  genius  to  conquer 
the  foreigner." l  And  if  "this  force  is  not 
clothed  in  satin,"  2  if,  especially  in  business,  "it 
usually  carries  a  trace  of  ferocity,"  3  it  is  none 

1  Emerson.  The  Conduct  of  Life:  Power.  2  Ib.  3  76. 


114        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  less  good  in  itself,  and  leaves  behind  it 
fewer  ruins  than  harvests.  It  multiplies  roads, 
railways,  canals,  schools.  Civilization  in  gen 
eral,  and  most  particularly  American  civiliza 
tion,  is  the  product  of  self-interest. 

The  fact  is  that  even  in  spite  of  itself  this 
form  of  self-interest  is  more  than  generous,  it 
is  a  generator;  it  is  the  self-interest  of  the  open 
hand  and  not  of  the  closed  fist.  Competition 
in  itself  implies  first  the  collaboration  and  then 
the  development  of  effort .  In  this  extreme  ten 
sion  of  energies,  he  who  acts  for  himself  acts 
for  all,  and  incites  those  around  him  to  activity. 
He  sets  in  motion  enormous  forces,  organizes, 
multiplies  them,  increases  their  power  tenfold 
and  their  proceeds  a  hundredfold.  He,  there 
fore,  must  needs  solicit  help;  he  stings  into 
activity  forces  which  but  for  him  would  have 
remained  inert.  He  obliges  his  neighbors  to  fol 
low  or  to  overtake  him.  Carried  along  by  an 
impetuous  impulse,  he  uplifts  himself  only  by 
uplifting  others.  "There  is  always  room  for 
a  man  of  force,  and  he  makes  room  for  many."  l 

By  these  means  American  self-interest  natu 
rally,  inevitably,  develops  into  altruism.  The 
progress  of  one  entails  the  progress  of  all. 
There  is,  as  it  were,  a  simultaneous  movement  of 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         115 

all  the  strata  of  society  to  a  higher  level.  This 
is,  indeed,  the  property  of  democracy.  Democ 
racy  is  not  a  miracle,  the  immediate  realization 
of  universal  well-being.  It  consists  in  the  more 
and  more  rapid  arrival  of  the  greatest  number, 
or  at  least  of  an  ever-increasing  number,  at  a 
state  of  welfare  and  security  until  then  re 
served  for  a  caste  of  privileged  persons,  who 
jealously  guarded  them  for  themselves  and 
transmitted  them  to  their  children  only.  Here, 
on  the  contrary,  the  upspringing  of  all  individ 
ual  wills  finally  results  not  in  a  levelling  from 
below,  but  in  an  expansion  of  the  collective 
existence  which  is  almost  universally  elevated. 
Some  gain  more,  others  less,  but  in  the  end  all 
gain.  In  this  game,  the  game  of  free  activities, 
there  are,  so  to  speak,  no  losers. 

On  the  whole,  the  spectacle  which  America 
presents  is  singularly  cheering.  Far  more  than 
Europe  she  is  without  a  poverty-stricken  prole 
tariat.  This  land  of  big  capitalists  is  also  the 
land  of  high  wages,  in  inverse  ratio  to  Ger 
many,  and  often  even  to  France.  In  the  very 
struggle  of  classes  there  is  here  a  strict  soli 
darity,  and  on  many  points  an  identity  of  in 
terests  between  capital  and  labor.  Further 
more,  if  competition  is  fierce  it  is  more  easily 
turned  into  collaboration.  Mr.  Rockefeller 


116        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

made  it  a  rule,  when  forming  trusts,  always  to 
offer  shares  to  those  with  whom  he  was  treating.1 
It  is  a  constant  rule,  indeed.  The  trusts  have 
always  sought  to  absorb  rather  than  destroy, 
and  have  shown  themselves  pitiless  only  to  re 
calcitrants.  If  they  have  finally  proved  to  be 
endangering  American  freedom,  at  least  in  their 
beginning  they  contributed  to  development. 
They  have  everywhere  sought  and  they  still 
seek  for  auxiliaries,  and  wherever  these  give 
appreciable  service  they  pay  largely,  without 
haggling.  The  spirit  of  justice  and  respect 
for  the  personality  of  others  are  the  natural 
fruits  of  creative  and  successful  self-interest. 

Emerson  has  brought  into  the  light  this  ideal 
ism  which  is  born  of  the  very  excess  of  realism. 
"  Though  in  no  respect  idealistic,  the  coal-mines 
of  Pennsylvania,  the  maritime  forces  of  New 
York,  and  the  principles  of  free  exchange  are 
all  gravitating  in  an  ideal  direction.  Nothing 
less  great  than  justice  can  keep  them  satisfied."  2 
Not  a  niggardly  justice,  doling  out  the  share  of 
each,  paring  down  one  man's  share  that  another 
may  not  have  less  than  he,  and  making  equality 
reside  in  mediocrity;  but  a  largely  distributive 
justice,  scattering  from  full  hands  the  products 
of  human  activity,  and  giving  to  each  his  due, 

1  Huret,  De  San  Francisco  au  Canada,  p.  29.  2  Emerson,  Essays. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL         117 

in  proportion  to  his  personal  worth  and  social 
usefulness.  "To  each  according  to  his  merit, 
to  merit  according  to  its  works." 

That  this  sort  of  justice  is  not  precisely  our 
own,  that  it  would  not  satisfy  the  ideal  aspira 
tions  of  the  European  and  especially  of  the 
French  soul,  may  well  be  the  case.  Even  in 
America  it  has  come  to  seem  insufficient  to 
certain  persons,  and  we  know  that  Mr.  Wilson, 
among  others,  has  uttered  a  warning  against 
it.  It  does  not  recognize  what  has  been  called 
"the  claim  of  the  weak  upon  the  strong";  it 
recognizes  no  weak  persons,  it  admits  only  of 
the  strong;  they  alone  have  the  right  to  share 
because  they  alone  have  a  right  to  exist.  But 
even  in  its  pitiless  narrowness  there  is  a  grandeur 
in  its  morality:  Be  strong!  The  first  and  per 
haps  the  sole  duty  of  man  toward  himself  is 
fully  to  realize  himself. 

Thus  everything  in  America  is  dominated  by 
the  idea  of  the  human  individual,  that  ardent, 
vivid  personality  who  is  seeking  himself,  who 
still,  in  large  measure,  has  to  find  himself,  but 
who,  even  in  his  present  indetermination,  gives 
us  to  trace  the  large  outline  of  what  he  will  be, 
or,  better,  of  what  he  will  make  himself. 

His  first  characteristic  is  restlessness.  Ex 
ternally  it  is  manifested  by  "the  essential  mo- 


118        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

bility  of  a  people  whose  life  is  extremely  strenu 
ous,  and  whose  eyes  are  constantly  fixed,  not 
upon  the  past,  not  even  upon  the  present,  but 
upon  the  future."  1 

Activity  for  the  sake  of  activity,  by  a  sense 
of  excessive  life,  of  superabundant  energy  which 
cannot  but  expend  itself;  this,  far  more  than 
dollar-hunting,  is  the  distinctive  mark  of  the 
American.  The  pursuit  of  wealth  is  the  appar 
ent  object,  the  expenditure  of  force  is  the  real 
need. 

Thus  the  future  appears  to  him  incoherent 
and  confused,  not  as  a  definite  aim  upon  which 
he  has  fixed  his  mind,  but  rather  as  an  indefinite 
accumulation  of  possible  activities.  He  de 
sires  to  be  rich,  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  that 
is  less  an  aim  than  a  guiding  thread  in  the  laby 
rinth  of  existence.  He  does  not  sketch  in  ad 
vance  the  outlines  of  the  form  under  which  he 
will  realize  himself,  he  aspires  to  realize  himself 
in  no  matter  what  form,  provided  it  will  pay. 
He  marches  forward  in  a  world  illimitably  open 
to  him,  in  which  are  vaguely  sketched,  imper 
fectly  blocked  out,  myriads  of  forms,  original 
and  unforeseen.  He  will  be  one  of  these,  no 
matter  which,  but  above  all  he  will  be,  if  he 
can,  something  that  he  is  not  yet. 

1  Les  Etats-Unis  et  la  France.     Address  by  Boutroux,  p.  7. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL        119 

It  would  seem  that  not  long  before  his  death 
William  James  thought  of  writing  a  Metaphysic 
of  the  New,  of  Creation,1  which  would  have 
been  the  American  metaphysic,  the  metaphysic 
of  active  empiricism.  America  might  be  de 
fined  as  the  onset  of  all  individual  wills  for  the 
assault  of  the  unknown.  The  American  lives 
in  an  intoxication  of  conquest,  but  his  conquests 
are  due  to  his  creative  activity.  He  is  bent 
upon  conquering  that  which  is  not,  that  is, 
upon  producing. 

De  Rousiers  glimpsed  a  part  of  the  truth 
when  he  said:  "That  which  enables  the  Ameri 
can  to  succeed,  that  which  constitutes  his  type, 
which  causes  the  sum  of  good  to  predominate 
over  the  sum  of  evil,  is  moral  worth,  personal 
energy,  creative  energy." 2  But  the  portrait 
lacks  completion;  that  which,  above  all,  the 
American  tends  to  realize  is  himself,  and  in 
himself  the  new  man,  the  man  of  to-morrow, 
him  whom  civilization  awaits,  hopes  for,  and 
has  not  yet  produced. 

Of  this  man  we  must  again  go  to  Emerson  to 
fix  the  chief  features,  for  he,  more  profoundly 
than  any  other,  apprehended  and  incarnated 
the  genius  of  his  race.  "The  new  time  demands 
a  new  man,  the  complementary  man  whom  this 

1 76.,  p.  9.  2  De  Rousiers,  op.  cit.,  p.  681. 


120        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

country  evidently  ought  to  produce."  l  This 
man  will  be  "the  reforming  man"  "the  coura 
geous,  integral  man,  who  will  discover  or  open  a 
straight  road  to  all  that  is  good  and  excellent 
upon  the  earth."  2  That  he  will  one  day  be 
called  to  take  the  headship  of  the  nations  is  the 
conviction  of  all,  the  conviction  which  President 
Wilson  in  his  messages  and  addresses  forcibly 
points  out  and  claims.  How  shall  the  nations 
be  remoulded  after  a  new  type,  adapted  to  new 
mundane  conditions,  if  man  himself  is  not  first 
remade?  "Why  was  man  born,  if  not  to  be  a 
Reformer,  a  Re-maker  of  what  man  has  done  ?  "  3 
Let  him  first  realize  in  himself  and  over  himself 
the  revolution  of  which  he  dreams  for  the  uni 
verse.  "Is  not  the  highest  duty  to  honor  man 
in  ourselves?"  4  And  the  surest  way  to  honor 
him  is,  first  of  all,  to  cause  him  to  be  born. 

It  would  seem  that,  in  fact,  the  future  or,  if 
you  will,  the  mission  of  the  American  people  is 
a  mission  of  renascence  and  renovation.  Hu 
manity  is  at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  It  is  im 
possible  that  it  should  be  to-morrow  what  it 
was  yesterday.  A  world  is  dying,  a  world  is 
being  born. 

"  Un  grand  destin  commence,  un  grand 
destin  s'acheve." 

1  Emerson,  Essays.  2  Ib.  3  Ib.  4  76. 


THE  INDIVIDUAL  IDEAL 

The  part  of  America,  this  new  people  among 
worn-out  nations,  may  be  immense,  and  it  wills 
it  to  be  so.  After  this  war  of  Titans,  from 
which  Europe  will  issue  decimated,  exhausted, 
and  in  solution,  she  expects  to  furnish  the  type 
of  humanity  which  will  enable  it  to  effect  its 
own  regeneration.  She  already  foresees  this, 
and  that  in  endeavoring  to  fashion  herself  in 
conformity  with  her  ambition  and  her  destiny 
she  is  accomplishing  a  work  of  cosmical  impor 
tance. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL 
I 

THE  STATE 

America  "a  nation  of  individuals." — Contrast  between  European 
nationalism  and  American  individualism. — There  is  no 
American  nation. — Weakness  of  political  life. — Power  of 
public  opinion. — American  democracy. 

"AMERICA,"  said  Emerson,  "is  a  nation  of 
/\     individuals." l 

By  this  fact  she  is  in  strong  contrast 
with  other  nations,  and  especially  with  France. 
There  is  little  more  than  the  word  in  common 
between  the  American  nation  and  the  nations 
of  Europe.  First  of  all,  and  above  all,  she  is  as 
little  as  possible  a  state. 

The  state  is  manifested  above  all  by  sover 
eignty.  And  this  she  concentrates  in  the  hands 
of  a  governing  class.  It  is  by  the  state  that  a 
nation  enters  history,  by  the  grouping  of  indi 
viduals  who  until  then  formed  only  a  horde 
around  a  leader,  "invested  by  them  with  full 

1  Emerson,  Essays. 
122 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL 

powers,  and  to  whom  they  look  for  protection 
and  defense." 

The  first  who  became  King  was  a  successful 
soldier. 

In  the  course  of  time  this  conception  has  be 
come  more  or  less  profoundly  modified,  but  it 
always  bears  the  impress  of  its  origin.  Pri 
marily  the  result  of  force,  the  state  preserves 
its  character  of  authority  even  when  it  takes  on 
the  most  legal  appearance.  In  some  sort  it 
towers  above  the  individual,  subordinating  him 
to  itself;  endowed  with  large  powers  of  coercion, 
it  is  tempted  to  employ  them  against  the  people, 
even  when  it  is  from  them  that  it  holds  its 
powers. 

As  a  result,  those  in  whom  the  state  is  in 
carnated  in  vain  call  themselves  only  delegates 
or  representatives — and  this  is  the  case  only  in 
democratic  nations — they  none  the  less  feel 
themselves  to  be  invested  with  exceptional  au 
thority,  and  hence  before  long  they  all  come 
more  or  less  to  represent  nothing  but  themselves. 
Where  the  parliamentary  system  acts  as  a  cor 
rective,  it  first  utters  a  warning,  and  then  brings 
about  that  convulsion  which  is  known  as  the 
overturning  of  a  ministry.  But  though  the 
persons  in  a  government  be  changed,  the  govern 
ment  persists;  in  vain  is  it  renewed,  in  vain  at 


124        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

every  moment  of  its  existence  is  it  responsible 
to  the  country;  it  is  not  long  in  again  constitut 
ing  itself  as  a  factor  apart,  superimposed  upon 
the  nation  when  not  opposed  to  it,  existing  in 
and  for  itself. 

Not  only  does  the  nation  consent  to  this 
domination,  in  general  it  begs  for  it.  How 
ever  much  it  may  complain  of  the  encroach 
ments  of  power,  it  finds  a  power  necessary.  It 
needs  direction,  impulse,  it  often  needs  places 
and  favors.  It  expects  the  state  to  act,  thus 
dispensing  itself  from  the  necessity  of  action. 
One  may  judge  of  this  by  the  continually  aris 
ing  complaints  against  "a  government  that  does 
not  govern,"  and  demands  for  "a  strong  gov 
ernment."  Subjects  must  have  a  master. 

Doubtless  this  is  above  all  true  of  autocracies, 
and  in  this  sense  Germany  is  the  type  of  state 
hood,  of  the  fetich  state,  the  "Great  Being" 
which  absorbs  and  annihilates  individuals.  But 
the  democracies  of  Europe  are,  to  a  great  degree, 
penetrated  by  the  same  spirit.  It  might  almost 
be  said  that  they  regret  the  tutelage  from  which 
they  have  been  too  early  emancipated.  France, 
after  its  numberless  revolutions,  and  its  nearly 
fifty  years  of  republican  rule,  looks  to  its  gov 
ernment  for  everything,  and  lives  by  an  admin 
istrative  organization  bequeathed  to  it  by  the 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  125 

First  Empire.  England  itself,  free  England,  has 
not  escaped  the  contagion.  Let  us  not  forget 
that  it  was  an  Englishman,  Spencer,  who  wrote 
the  well-known  squib,  "The  Individual  Against 
the  State."  Even  revolutionary  Russia,  born 
but  yesterday,  drunk  with  freedom,  is  already 
experiencing  the  imperative  need  of  rallying 
around  a  provisional  government  at  the  risk  of 
disintegration,  finding  in  it  almost  the  equivalent 
of  a  committee  of  public  safety. 

In  short,  it  is  the  property  of  Europe  to  be 
governed,  at  the  peril  of  risking  destruction. 
Outside  of  the  system  of  statehood  there  is  room 
only  for  anarchy.  She  more  or  less  tempers 
this  system  by  an  appeal  to  that  instrument  of 
control,  parliament,  but  the  very  existence  of 
parliamentarianism  proves  the  power  of  the 
state.  It  is  the  remedy,  side  by  side  with  the 
disease,  the  safeguard  against  an  always  pos 
sible  and  always  dreaded  abuse  of  power. 

Now  in  America  there  is  nothing  of  the  kind. 
In  spite  of  entirely  superficial  resemblances, 
there  is  no  American  statehood.  America  knows 
nothing  of  statehood.  It  may  not  even  be 
said  that  she  is  anti-statist,  but  if  one  dare  risk 
the  barbarism,  she  is  a-statist.  In  America  the 
collectivity  resolves  itself  into  the  single  indi- 


126        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

viduals  that  compose  it.  They  carry  on  their 
public  business  themselves  far  more  than  they 
delegate  it  to  others. 

All  who  have  travelled  in  the  United  States 
have  become  aware  of  the  laxity  of  public  life. 
One  is  hardly  aware  of  the  existence  of  a  gov 
ernment.  This. arises  both  from  the  structure 
of  the  American  Constitution  and  the  state 
of  public  spirit.  "There  is  in  the  American 
Government,  considered  as  a  whole,  a  want  of 
unity.  Its  branches  are  unconnected  and  their 
efforts  are  not  directed  to  one  aim,  do  not  pro 
duce  one  harmonious  result."  It  would  seem 
that  both  it  and  the  diverse  parts  of  its  mechan 
ism  are  characterized  by  the  same  spirit  of 
independence  that  we  have  noted  in  the  citizens 
of  the  Union.  There  is  no  concerted  action, 
no  co-operation  between  the  Houses,  the  Presi 
dent,  the  federal  courts;  each  plays  its  own 
part  without  concerning  itself  about  its  neigh 
bor.  And  the  nation  concerns  itself  the  less, 
because  it  does  not  suffer  from  the  situation. 
It  does  not  expect  to  be  given  its  a,  its  key-note, 
and  still  less  that  its  work  should  be  done  for  it. 
"That  which  comes  to  pass  seems  not  to  be  a 
result  of  the  action  of  the  legal  organs  of  the 
state,  but  of  some  larger  force,  which  at  one 

1  Bryce,  The  American  Commonwealth,  I,  p.  287. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  127 

time  uses  their  discord  as  its  means,  at  another 
neglects  them  altogether."  1 

In  consequence,  elective  functions  are  lightly 
esteemed,  and  are  abandoned  to  professional 
politicians.  The  latter,  though  within  the  last 
few  years  their  lead  has  tended  to  improve,  are 
often  despicable,  and  still  more  often  despised. 
Politics  is  the  career  of  those  who  have  and  can 
have  no  other;  it  is  adopted  by  those  who  have 
failed  in  other  professions,  for  private  enter 
prises  suffice,  and  more  than  suffice,  to  absorb 
the  energies  of  the  sound  population.  In  gen 
eral,  "Politics  are  less  interesting  in  America 
than  in  Europe,"  and  do  not  lead  so  far,  while 
other  careers  are  relatively  more  important 
and  lead  farther.2 

Thus,  here  more  than  elsewhere  the  electoral 
parties  are  syndicates  of  powerfully  organized 
and  unscrupulous  private  interests.  The  "  boss  " 
is  king,  and  in  case  of  need  does  not  shrink  from 
corruption  or  fraud.  His  party  is  concerned 
with  satisfying  its  adherents  and  getting  places 
for  its  members.  The  general  welfare  is  its 
smallest  concern. 

The  result  is  a  dangerous  condition  which  has 
been  many  a  time  pointed  out,  but  the  impor 
tance  of  which  must  not  be  exaggerated — it  is 

1  /&.,  I,  p.  288.  2  /&.,  II,  pp.  38,  39,  passim,  p.  283. 


128        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

less  in  America  than  elsewhere.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
has  pointed  out  that  "in  the  long  run  the  politics 
of  fraud  and  treachery  and  foulness  are  unprac 
tical  politics,"  and  "the  most  practical  of  all 
politicians  is  the  politician  who  is  clean  and 
decent  and  upright."1  President  Wilson,  more 
disquieted  by  this  occult  influence,  laments  that 
authority  has  been  confiscated  by  a  handful  of 
leaders  who  manipulate  the  people  in  the  dark 
and  make  demands  upon  the  government  in  the 
light  of  day.  "Government  must  ...  be  ab 
solutely  public  in  everything  that  affects  it."  2 
But  in  reality  it  is  external  in  every  essential 
point.  In  normal  times  the  people  of  the 
United  States  leave  the  President  and  the  Houses 
to  attend  to  their  business ;  but  let  a  crisis  come 
and  they  know  how  to  act  for  themselves. 
Then  the  active  members  of  the  population 
take  public  affairs  in  hand.  They  do  it  with 
their  usual  decision,  at  times  by  summary  proc 
esses,  of  which  lynch-law  affords  an  example. 
They  form  vigilance  committees,  which  control 
the  functioning  of  the  administrative  machinery, 
free  associations  which  deal  with  urgent  diffi 
culties.  Then,  their  duty  done,  they  return  to 
their  private  affairs. 

1  Roosevelt,  American  Ideals,  p.  36. 

2  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  130. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL 

In  such  cases  it  would  never  occur  to  them 
to  seek  the  support  of  the  public  powers.  In 
America  they  are  accustomed  to  depend  only 
upon  themselves;  all  they  ask  of  the  state  is 
neither  to  favor  nor  to  impede  individual  effort. 
What  Tocqueville  wrote  has  not  ceased  to  be 
true:  "The  inhabitant  of  the  United  States  is 
taught  from  his  birth  that  he  must  depend  upon 
himself  in  his  struggle  against  the  ills  and  diffi 
culties  of  life;  he  looks  upon  the  social  authori 
ties  with  an  uneasy  and  defiant  eye,  and  only 
appeals  to  their  power  when  he  can  do  no  other 
wise."  l 

This  power  exists  only  by  him,  and  he  knows 
it.  The  representatives  of  the  nation  are  in 
vested  with  but  limited  means  of  action,  and 
for  a  short  space  of  time.  The  office-holder  is 
truly,  in  a  certain  degree,  immediately  and  di 
rectly  dependent  upon  the  elector.  The  will 
of  the  people  acts  directly  and  constantly  upon 
the  legislative  and  executive  mandatories.2 
While  the  German  Reichstag,  in  spite  of  ap 
pearances,  is  merely  the  servant  of  the  Emperor, 
while  the  French  and  English  Parliaments  are 
really  the  representatives  of  the  nation,  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States  is  nothing  of  the 
kind.  "In  America  Congress  is  not  the  na- 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  cit.  2  Bryce,  op.  cit.,  II,  p.  225. 


130        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

tion,  and  does  not  claim  to  be  so,"1  for  "the 
mass  of  the  citizens  may  be  deemed  as  ...  the 
supreme  power."  2  President  Wilson,  following 
the  example  of  Mr.  Roosevelt,  and  especially  of 
Mr.  Bryan,  claims  new  powers  for  the  people, 
the  "initiative"  of  laws,  the  "referendum,"  and 
the  "recall"  of  functionaries.  We  need,  he 
says,  "to  take  charge  of  our  own  affairs." 3 
Without  discussing  the  potentialities  of  these 
methods  of  action,  it  may  be  said  that  there  is 
no  country  in  which  they  appear  to  be  less 
necessary,  for  even  when  the  people  act  by 
their  representatives  it  is  always  they  who  act, 
and  no  one  can  evade  their  will.  ;<  Towering 
over  presidents  and  State  governors,  over  Con 
gress  and  State  legislatures,  over  conventions 
and  the  vast  machinery  of  party,  public  opinion 
stands  out  in  the  United  States  as  the  great 
source  of  power,  the  master  of  servants,  who 
tremble  before  it."  4 

It  is  in  this  sense  that  America  is  a  democ 
racy,  perhaps  the  only  truly  constituted  democ 
racy,  in  which,  as  we  shall  see,  the  citizen 
always  finds  himself  confronted  with  law,  but 
never  with  power.  It  is  truly  the  republic, 
the  "public  thing,"  the  thing  of  all,  that  in 

1  76.,  p.  228.  2  76.,  p.  227. 

3  Woodrow  Wilson,  op.  cit.,  p.  227.  4  Bryce,  op.  dt.y  II,  p.  225. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  131 

which  it  suffices  that  each  one  shall  freely  de 
velop  himself  in  order  to  take  his  part  in 
sovereignty.  There  is  in  the  whole  world  no 
country  whose  impulsion  comes  less  from  above, 
where  it  comes  more  from  beneath,  from  the 
lowest  stratum  of  the  population.  In  this  con 
geries  of  individual  activities  the  common  and 
collective  will  is  only  the  natural  result  of  many 
dispersed  efforts.  "What  is  called  the  republic 
in  the  United  States  is  the  slow,  quiet  action  of 
society  upon  itself.  It  is  a  true  state,  really 
founded  upon  the  enlightened  will  of  the  peo 
ple."  1 

II 

THE  DECLARATION  OF  RIGHTS 

The  United  States  were  born  of  Right  and  not  of  Fact. — Indi 
vidual  rights :  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness. — 
National  rights. — Independence  and  moral  personality. — 
"Righteous  insurrection." — Rejection  of  the  "strong  gov 
ernment." — The  United  States  a  government  of  men. 

Thus  it  was  by  the  affirmation  of  their  will 
to  be,  that  the  United  States  constituted  them 
selves  a  nation.  The  date  of  their  existence 
can  be  fixed.  Of  how  many  peoples  could  as 
much  be  said?  Before  the  Declaration  of  In 
dependence  in  1776,  there  was  nothing.  From 

1  De  Tocqueville,  op.  tit.,  II,  p.  400. 


132        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  moment  of  that  declaration  there  was  an 
American  nation,  founded  upon  a  legal  basis. 

It  is  in  fact  the  distinctive  character  of  the 
United  States  to  have  been  born  of  law  and 
not  of  fact,  or  rather  of  having  made  fact  to 
proceed  from  law.  Everywhere  else  the  na 
tion  existed  before  the  law;  here,  the  law,  the 
charter  of  recognized  and  unanimously  ac 
cepted  liberties,  created  the  nation.  The  will 
to  be,  manifested  in  the  form  of  a  contract, 
preceded  and  made  actual  the  being.  The 
American  colonists,  by  proclaiming  the  rights 
of  man  as  the  condition  of  a  people's  existence, 
for  the  first  time  in  history  showed,  and  proved 
by  example,  not  only  that  a  nation  belongs 
only  to  itself,  but  that  it  ought  to  make  itself, 
to  create  itself  by  its  own  effort.  At  the  basis 
of  the  national  compact  there  was  neither  the 
violence  of  a  victor  nor  the  constraint  nor  the 
gratuitous  kindness  of  a  master,  bad  or  good, 
nor  yet  a  series  of  accidents  and  contingencies, 
of  confused  instincts  and  vague,  sentimental 
affinities.  There  was  a  free  contract,  an  act 
of  reason,  a  ripely  considered  determination. 
"It  was  the  realization  of  sovereignty,  not  in 
isolated,  arbitrary,  unreflecting  decisions,  in- 
fluenced  by  passion  or  interest,  but  in  a  legally 
constituted  state."  1 

1  Les  £tats-Unis  et  la  France.     Address  by  Mr.  D.  J.  Hill,  p.  208. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  133 

The  essential  principle  of  the  Constitution, 
as  it  springs  from  the  Declaration  of  Indepen 
dence,  is  the  rights  of  the  individual  as  basis, 
principle,  and  end  of  the  collectivity.  The  na 
tion,  a  collective  person,  has  no  other  entity 
than  its  citizens,  individual  persons. 

Such  is  in  fact  the  sound  democratic  tradi 
tion,  forcibly  expounded  by  Mr.  Baldwin  and  al 
ways  faithfully  acted  upon  by  the  United  States. 
In  this  tradition  "the  state  is  only  a  means, 
an  instrument  of  the  nation,  not  an  end  in  it 
self;  a  means  of  realizing  personal  and  social 
values,  determined  by  free  citizens  in  the  course 
of  their  free  development,  and  chosen  for  their 
free  happiness."  l  The  state,  therefore,  re 
duces  itself  to  the  part  of  a  tool,  having  only 
"an  instrumental  and  not  an  absolute  value."  * 
It  has  no  real  existence,  no  proper  personality, 
except  in  the  man,  the  citizen. 

The  citizen,  therefore,  has  natural  rights 
antecedent  to  any  agreement,  which  the  na 
tional  compact  may  and  should  recognize  and 
sanction,  but  which  it  has  no  power  to  create. 
Such  rights  are  "inalienable." 

What  are  they?  The  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  touches  upon  only  the  most  impor 
tant  among  them:  "Among  these  are  life, 
liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness." 

1  Professor  Mark  Baldwin,  American  Neutrality,  p.  96.         2  /&.,  p.  96. 


134        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Let  us  recognize  the  original  character  of 
this  utterance;  it  is  specifically  American. 
These  recognized  rights  are  neither  purely 
negative  nor  yet  properly  positive.  The  Amer 
ican  asks  nothing  of  the  state  except  guarantees, 
but  he  demands  that  they  be  complete:  he  is 
not  to  be  threatened  as  to  his  life,  nor  disturbed 
in  his  liberty,  nor  checked  or  delayed  in  his  pur 
suit  of  happiness.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  the 
state  to  make  the  individual  happy:  he  has 
not  even  "the  right"  to  happiness,  nor  even, 
in  the  large  sense  in  which  the  revolutionists 
of  1848  understood  it,  the  right  to  life.  The 
hypothesis  of  a  Providence- state,  dear  to  cer 
tain  socialistic  schools,  is  repugnant  to  the 
f  Yankee  spirit  of  initiative.  He  does  not  ask 
I  earthly  manna  of  the  public  powers,  the  crumb 
which  shall  put  him  beyond  the  reach  of  want, 
for  he  recognizes  no  power  greater  than  his 
own.  He  relies  upon  his  own  energy,  his  un 
aided  power,  to  make  his  life,  and  it  may  even 
be  said  that  he  knows  how  to  make  himself 
happy  without  help.  "I  do  not  want  to  live 
under  philanthropy,  I  do  not  want  to  be  taken 
care  of  by  the  government  either  directly  or  by 
any  instrumentality  through  which  the  govern 
ment  is  acting.  I  want  only  to  have  right  and  jus 
tice  prevail  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  Give  me 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  135 

right  and  justice  and  I  will  undertake  to  take 
care  of  myself." 1  Even  those  whom,  like 
President  Wilson,  one  would  sometimes  be  in 
clined  to  look  upon  as  interventionists,  have  a 
horror  of  the  intrusion  of  the  state  into  the  affairs 
of  private  individuals,  and  limit  it  to  a  mini 
mum.  "It  is  always  insupportable  that  govern 
ment  should  intervene  in  your  private  activities, 
unless  it  be  to  set  them  free."  2 

All  that  the  American  asks  of  the  state, 
therefore,  is  to  guarantee  him  the  full  and  free 
use  of  all  his  faculties,  physical,  intellectual, 
and  moral.  Not  by  a  passive  and  platonic  re 
spect;  he  demands  efficient  collaboration,  an 
effort  parallel  to  his  own.  The  individual  has 
a  "right"  to  "the  pursuit  of  happiness."  It  is 
for  the  government  to  clear  his  road,  to  remove 
obstacles,  to  assure  him  freedom  of  move 
ment.  The  state  must  give  him  a  fair  field 
at  home,  and  be  his  watch-dog  abroad.  At 
home  its  function  is  first  of  all  to  secure  his  ac 
tivities  from  check,  but  it  is  also  to  stimulate 
them,  to  point  their  way,  to  guide  them  into 
new  fields  where  the  prospect  of  success  appears 
to  be  best  assured.  With  regard  to  foreigners 
it  is  to  act  as  in  some  sort  a  filter:  it  must  close 
the  door  to  products  which  would  compete 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  198.  2  76. 


136        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

with  American  industry  upon  its  own  soil,  as 
also  to  such  social  derelicts  as  would  live  as 
parasites  at  his  expense;  but  it  must  open  the 
door  wide  to  manufactured  objects  which  home 
industry  fails  to  produce,  as  well  as  to  works 
useful  to  develop  its  productivity.  In  both 
cases  it  has  in  view  only  the  rights  and  interests 
of  the  American  citizen.  Practising  this  kind 
of  "sacred  selfishness"  it  enables  him  to  use  all 
his  powers  to  their  highest  point,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  is  careful  not  to  act  in  his  place. 
It  gives  him  facilities,  means  of  action,  but  it 
never  does  his  work  for  him.  The  individual 
alone  counts,  indeed,  but  he  may  count  only 
upon  himself.  "Let  the  individual  be,  if  he 
will  and  can  be." 

The  immediate  corollary  of  individual  free 
dom  is  national  liberty.  A  citizen  should  exer 
cise  his  rights,  put  forth  his  energy,  in  the  na 
tion  of  his  choice.  A  mother  country  should 
be  consented  to,  not  imposed.  Thus  the  idea  of 
personality  naturally  extends  from  the  individual 
to  the  collectivity.  Every  nation  is  a  moral 
person  that  should  shape  its  own  destiny.  It 
has  not,  we  must  observe,  an  existence  of  its 
own  outside  of  and  distinct  from  the  people  who 
constitute  it.  It  is  only  the  expression  of  a  col 
lective  and  so  to  say  unanimous  aggregation  of 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  137 

individual  wills,  which  alone  count.  It  exists 
as  does  an  "association,"  which,  outside  of  the 
associates  that  compose  it,  is  only  a  statute,  a 
sort  of  codification  of  essential  agreements. 
But,  as  such,  this  association  holds  a  rank  at 
once  ideal  and  real  among  legal  existences.  It 
has  rights  to  assert,  claims  to  enforce.  When 
it  speaks  it  is  regarded  as  expressing  the  opin 
ion  of  all  who  compose  it,  by  whom  and  for 
whom  it  exists.  From  the  day  when  it  ceases 
to  express  them  faithfully,  it  has  only  a  fictitious 
existence,  and  should  be  dissolved  to  make  room 
for  a  new  grouping  which  shall  really  express 
the  will  of  the  contracting  parties. 

Now  it  is  precisely  this  that  has  legitimatized 
the  founding  of  the  United  States  as  a  nation. 
Until  then  bound  to  the  mother  country,  New 
England  held  to  Old  England  only  by  habit 
and  constraint.  Thence  the  right  of  the  Ameri 
can  people  to  "assume  among  the  powers  of 
the  earth  the  separate  and  equal  station  to 
which  the  laws  of  Nature  and  of  Nature's  God 
entitle  them."  "Equal  station,"  that  is  to  say, 
repudiation  of  all  subordination,  all  allegiance 
of  people  to  people  as  of  man  to  man.  One 
people  is  worth  as  much  as  another,  just  as  one 
man  is  worth  as  much  as  another,  neither  more 
nor  less,  and  for  precisely  the  same  reasons. 


138        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

"Separate  station,"  that  is  to  say,  total  and 
even  jealous  independence  of  a  nation  which, 
at  least  in  its  beginning,  affirms  its  sincere  de 
tachment  from  European  interests,  but  insists 
that  in  return  Europe  shall  not  meddle  with  its 
own.  Europe  for  Europeans,  and  America  for 
Americans;  thus  is  individualism  exalted  into 
a  doctrine. 

The  government  of  the  United  States  was 
constituted  in  opposition  to  despotism,  and  the 
first  right  that  it  insisted  upon  was  that  of 
righteous  insurrection  against  the  oppressor. 
After  enunciating  the  liberties  which  it  claims 
for  the  individual,  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence  lays  stress  upon  the  revolutionary 
idea.  'To  secure  these  rights,  governments  are 
instituted  among  men,  deriving  their  just  powers 
from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  .  .  .  When 
ever  any  form  of  government  becomes  destruc 
tive  of  these  ends  it  is  the  right  of  the  people  to 
alter  or  to  abolish  it."  Again,  and  above  all, 
"when  a  long  train  of  abuses  and  usurpations, 
pursuing  invariably  the  same  object,  evinces 
a  design  to  reduce  them  under  absolute  des 
potism,  it  is  their  right,  it  is  their  duty  [italics  the 
author's],  to  throw  off  such  government,  and  to 
provide  new  guards  for  their  future  security." 

No    doubt    these    utterances    were    directed 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  139 

against  English  domination,  but  they  have  the 
value  of  a  principle,  and  transcend  the  circum 
stances  which  gave  them  birth;  they  express 
the  very  meaning  of  the  American  charter  and 
of  every  truly  democratic  charter.  They  lay 
down  the  immovable  foundation  of  individual 
liberty :  A  government  has  no  existence  of  its  own. 
It  has  no  inherent  rights,  but  only  duties 
toward  the  collectivity,  and  only  the  extremely 
limited  and  severely  controlled  rights  expressly 
conferred  by  the  collectivity  to  make  possible 
the  discharge  of  its  duties.  Derived  from  no 
transcendent  principle,  it  has  no  sovereignty. 
The  sole  sovereignty  is  popular  sovereignty 
drawing  from  individuals  its  force  and  the  reason 
for  its  being. 

Thence  this  necessary  consequence:  A  strong 
government  is  not  necessary;  a  weak  government 
is  necessary  that  the  individual  may  be  strong. 
The  strength  of  a  government  is  in  directly  in 
verse  ratio  to  the  weakness  of  the  governed. 
We  may  judge  by  Germany,  whose  Chancellor, 
the  organ  of  the  Emperor,  imposes  his  will  upon 
the  Reichstag  and  the  nation.  The  Americans, 
having  suffered,  and  especially  having  taken  the 
risk  of  greater  suffering,  have  recognized  and 
warded  off  this  danger.  Their  entire  political 
life  has  developed  in  the  direction  of  the  weak- 


140        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

ening  of  public  powers  and  the  strengthening 
of  private  liberties.  Essential  decisions  have 
always  come  from  the  very  substructure  of  the 
people.  Action  has  always  presupposed  the 
consent  of  public  opinion.  The  American  may 
permit  himself  to  be  convinced;  he  will  never 
suffer  himself  to  be  commanded. 

Consequently  there  are  as  few  and  as  weak 
relations  between  the  governing  classes  and  the 
governed  as  possible.  Washington  proudly  as 
serted  that  "  among  all  the  governments  hitherto 
instituted  among  men,  there  has  been  none  con 
taining  more  checks  and  barriers,  and  barriers 
more  difficult  to  overturn,  against  the  introduc 
tion  of  tyranny."  l  The  American  knows  that 
he  has  made  a  tool  to  be  used,  not  a  master  to 
be  served. 

But  that  this  should  be  the  case,  the  people 
of  the  United  States  must  needs  be  very  strong. 
Laissez  oiler  soon  degenerates  into  anarchy 
where  there  is  not  a  "regulated  freedom." 
Washington  himself  more  than  once  showed  his 
concern  on  this  point.  He  even  went  so  far,  in 
a  private  letter,  as  to  suggest  a  "coercive 
power."  2  The  event  proved  his  fears  to  have 
been  unfounded.  Liberty  was  not  regulated 
from  without,  but  it  learned  how  to  regulate 

1  Quoted  by  Fabre,  Washington,  p.  310.  2  76.,  p.  268. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  141 

itself,  without  appealing  to  guardian  or  master. 
Not  that  there  is  not  in  the  United  States  a 
better  class  that  leads  and  a  crowd  that  follows. 
In  this  society  of  equals,  all  in  a  sense  constitute 
the  better  class — not  by  intelligence  or  intellec 
tuality — the  race  is  rough-hewn  and  ill  educated 
—but  by  will,  by  the  power  to  work,  by  the  sense 
of  initiative.  Their  activities  do  not  need  to 
be  guided  from  without,  as  a  shepherd  guides 
his  flock,  for  there  is  no  flock.  There  are  no 
moujiks  in  the  United  States.  Every  one  knows 
how  to  guide  himself,  to  decide  for  himself. 
Under  conditions  radically  different  and  upon 
a  vaster  scale,  the  American  republic  offers  a 
point  of  resemblance  to  the  Athenian  republic: 
it  is  a  republic  of  men.  What  the  citizen  of 
Attica  was  by  culture  and  refinement  of  thought, 
the  citizen  of  New  York  and  Chicago  is  by  the 
strength,  the  harshness  even,  of  his  indefatigable 
activity — an  autonomous  creature. 


142        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

III 

THE  UNION 

Heterogeneous  character  of  the  United  States. — They  form  a 
union,  but  not  a  unit. — Autonomy  and  equality  of  the 
various  states. — Possible  conflicts  between  states  and 
union. — Flexibility  of  the  unified  organization. 

"Union  and  liberty";  such  is  the  device  of 
the  great  republic  beyond  the  sea,  liberty  in 
and  by  union,  union  at  once  the  guarantee  and 
the  instrument  of  liberty. 

But  to  posit  the  problem  is  not  to  solve  it, 
and  the  difficulty  is  to  reconcile  two  terms  that 
seem  to  be  antagonistic.  How  conserve  the 
integral  liberty  of  each  without  diminishing 
the  strength  which  results  from  the  union  of 
all?  How  maintain  and  strengthen  the  bond 
which  alone  can  insure  the  cohesion  of  the  in 
dividuals  without  trenching  upon  their  rights? 
The  American  solution,  at  once  realistic  and 
idealistic,  is  a  legal  solution.  Nothing  but  a 
legal  bond  can  be  at  once  strong  enough  to 
insure  the  unity  of  the  whole  and  flexible  enough 
to  permit  the  relative  independence  and  liberty 
of  movement  of  the  parts.  The  power  of  the 
politician  is,  therefore,  lessened  while  that  of 
the  judge  is  increased.  The  dominating  idea 
in  the  United  States  is  not  the  idea  of  the  state 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  143 

but  of  the  constitution.  It  is  the  law  which 
finally  brings  unity  into  this  heterogeneous 
mass. 

Heterogeneous  it  is  indeed  politically,  and 
that  is  what  at  first  strikes  the  visitor.  There 
is  no  centralization  in  America;  the  radiation 
of  the  administrative  power  begins  on  all  sides 
and  ends  nowhere.  The  idea  of  primacy  is 
utterly  lacking  and  forbids  the  constitution 
of  any  body  in  which  authority,  coming  from 
above,  spreads  abroad  to  the  lowest  through 
a  series  of  ramified  channels.  In  America  the 
administration  does  not  function  as  a  whole. 
The  administration  is  not  a  whole.  "It  is  a 
group  of  persons,  each  of  whom  depends  individ 
ually  upon  the  President  and  implicates  his 
responsibility.  There  is  no  political  unity,  no 
collective  responsibility."  l  So  strong  is  the 
individualistic  imprint  upon  this  people  that 
it  appears  in  that  which,  by  definition,  seems 
inevitably  to  eliminate  it,  this  aggregate  of 
functionaries.  A  functionary  is  an  individual 
who  is  responsible  to  another  individual  for 
his  individual  acts.  He  has  not  to  protect  sub 
ordinates  or  to  be  protected  by  superiors;  he 
operates  in  his  sphere  of  operations  with  more 
liberty  but  at  his  own  risk.  And  his  respon- 

1  Bryce,  The  American  Commonwealth,  I,  p.  87. 


144        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

sibility,  in  the  long  run,  is  appreciated  by  his 
electors. 

This  gives  a  strange  aspect  to  the  country. 
One  seeks  in  vain  the  strong  timber-work,  the 
solid  trussing,  which  upholds  this  vast  body. 
One  would  say  that  this  immense  organism  is 
that  of  an  invertebrate. 

In  the  first  place  America  is  a  union  and 
not  a  unit;  it  is  formed  by  the  juxtaposition  of 
independent  states  which  drew  together  in 
the  interest  of  self-defense;  but  each  of  which, 
above  all  things,  made  a  point  of  preserving 
its  independence  and  individual  physiognomy. 
Here  again  the  resemblance  to  Greece  comes 
naturally  to  mind.  In  ancient  times  there  was 
never,  strictly  speaking,  a  Greece,  and  yet  there 
was  a  Greek  people.  The  various  cities,  Thebes, 
Athens,  Corinth,  Sparta,  the  islands,  had  each 
its  constitution,  its  laws,  its  manners.  The  state 
was  limited  to  the  polls.  Let  danger  threaten 
from  without,  an  oriental  invasion,  for  instance, 
and  they  came  together  spontaneously;  but 
diversity  remained  even  in  the  uniting  of  in 
terests  and  the  community  of  aspirations.  In 
different  proportions  there  was  something  anal 
ogous  to  the  alliance  which,  at  the  present  day, 
brings  the  civilized  na'tions  together  in  a  compact 
union  to  struggle  against  German  imperialism. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  145 

It  was  an  alliance  of  the  same  order  that 
united  the  States,  and  organized  them  into  a 
confederation.  America  worsted  the  potentate 
as  Greece  checked  the  invader,  by  binding  into 
a  Society  of  States  (harbinger  and  model  of  the 
Society  of  Nations  of  which  Mr.  Wilson  dreams) 
these  groups,  distinct  in  fact  but  united  in 
a  single  thought  of  freedom.  Drawn  together 
at  once  by  their  interests  and  their  ideal,  the 
countries  that  formed  the  union  consented  to 
a  solid  and  durable  bond,  but  refused  fusion. 
They  simply  formed  a  mass  against  the  common 
enemy,  retaining  only  so  much  of  national  unity 
as  was  strictly  necessary  for  attaining  the  de 
sired  end. 

Therefore  they  fully  proposed  to  conserve 
as  individuals  the  independence  which  they 
had  conquered  as  a  group.  And  in  this  way 
the  United  States,  constituting  themselves  such, 
presented  the  strange  and  somewhat  hybrid 
aspect  of  a  creature  at  the  same  time  one  and 
many:  among  themselves  they  were  a  union; 
to  the  eye  of  the  foreigner  they  were  forming 
a  nation. 

No  doubt  in  the  course  of  time  distinctions 
faded  away,  and  there  was  a  tendency  toward 
fusion;  but  it  is  still  very  far  from  being  realized. 
Many  things  naturally  retard  it:  the  immensity 


146        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

of  the  American  continent,  opposing  interests 
which,  after  long  causing  friction  between  the 
North  and  the  South,  in  our  days  is  more  mani 
fest  between  the  East  and  the  West,  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  Pacific  coast  fixing  their  eyes  and 
their  purposes  upon  Asia,  those  upon  the  Atlantic 
shore  turning  theirs  toward  Europe.  To  these 
we  may  especially  add  State  constitutions,  giv 
ing  a  material  form  to  local  patriotism. 

Such  a  conflict  of  interest,  though  attenuated, 
still  persists  between  the  state  and  the  union, 
between  particularism  and  federalism.  The 
American  accommodates  himself  to  it  well 
enough.  He  admits  as  natural  "the  existence 
of  a  double  government,  a  double  allegiance,  a 
double  patriotism."  l  He  is  nationally  "double" 
with  almost  as  much  ease  as  we  are  "simple." 
"Every  American  citizen  lives  in  a  duality  of 
which  Europeans,  always  excepting  the  Swiss 
and  to  some  extent  the  Germans,  have  no  ex 
perience.  .  .  .  He  (the  American)  lives  under 
two  governments  and  two  sets  of  laws;  he  is 
animated  by  two  patriotisms  and  owes  two 
allegiances."  2 

It  is  true  that  these  do  not  lie  in  the  same 

1  Bryce,  op.  ciL,  I,  p.  32. 

2  76.,  II,  p.  426.     The  important — and  often  if  not  dangerous  at  least 
menacing — effects  of  this  duality  have  been  indicated  by  Mr.  Baldwin, 
American  Neutrality,  first  lecture,  pp.  3-7  and  passim. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  147 

plane.  One  is  the  government  that  might  be 
called  normal  and,  so  to  speak,  daily;  it  is  the 
rule.  The  other,  if  not  abnormal,  is  at  least  an 
intermittent  government;  it  forms  the  excep 
tion.  Even  at  the  present  time  it  may  almost 
be  said  that  America  does  not  exist  every  day. 
It  exists  especially  in  periods  of  crisis:  the  day 
of  a  presidential  election,  of  the  explosion  of 
the  Maine,  or  of  the  rupture  of  diplomatic  re 
lations  with  Germany.  On  such  days,  if  one 
may  still  discern  in  the  whole  mass  a  few  ele 
ments  of  resistance — certain  imperfectly  as 
similated  fomenters  of  trouble — they  are  swept 
away  by  the  broad  current  which,  carrying  all 
wills  with  it,  makes  the  nation.  This  is  the 
America  that  applauds  Mr.  Wilson's  Message, 
that  receives  Marshal  Joffre  and  Minister 
Viviani  in  a  delirium  of  joy,  that  rushes  in  a 
mass  to  the  enlistment  offices.  But  calmness 
soon  returns,  the  bond  is  relaxed  without  being 
dissolved,  and  local  self-interests  resume  their 
sway. 

But,  notwithstanding  fears  manifested  in 
Washington,  this  is  not  dangerous.  In  spite  of 
a  few  clashings  and  frictions,  harmony  exists 
between  the  whole  and  the  parts.  Men  ac 
cept  and,  even  with  the  founder  of  the  nation, 
insist  upon  "a  central  power  safeguarding  order 


148        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

and  the  common  interest,"  1  and  this  power  in 
its  turn  shows  itself  as  respectful  of  the  liberty 
of  the  states  as  they  and  itself  are  respectful 
of  the  liberty  of  the  citizens.  For  it  is  liberty 
which  at  once  sustains  the  entire  edifice  and  all 
its  parts.  "America  is  a  republic  of  republics."2 
Within  itself  each  State  retains  its  indepen 
dence,  elects  its  own  governor  and  other  officers, 
and  makes  its  own  laws.  In  its  relations  with 
the  others  it  stands  on  terms  of  equality.  If  in 
the  House  of  Representatives  each  State  is  rep 
resented  according  to  its  population,  it  sends 
two  delegates  to  the  Senate  whatever  its  rela 
tive  importance,  whether  its  inhabitants  be 
numbered  by  thousands  or  millions.  Politically, 
there  are  no  small  States,  any  more  than  indi 
vidually  there  are  lesser  citizens.  This  is  evi 
dently  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  Constitu 
tion  was  careful  to  consider  the  susceptibilities 
and  anticipate  the  solicitudes  of  the  less  power 
ful  States;  it  was  the  work  of  "restless  indi 
vidualists";3  but  we  must  also  observe  the  care 
for  justice  which  animated  all  the  constituents; 
not  one  of  them  would  have  permitted  any  en 
croachment  upon  his  own  rights,  nor  permit 
himself  to  encroach  upon  those  of  others.  These 

1  Fabre,  Washington,  p.  90.  2  Bryce,  op.  cit.,  I,  33. 

3  Boutmy,  Etudes  de  droit  constitutionnel,  p.  192. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  149 

"Brothers  of  Freedom"  formed  a  "Society  of 
Equals." 

More  than  this.  This  Union,  formed  by  the 
will  of  the  contracting  parties,  refused  to  add 
to  itself  by  force.  For  a  policy  of  annexation 
it  proposed  to  substitute  a  policy  of  association. 
Every  time  that  it  enlarged  its  bounds  it  was 
as  the  result  of  mutual  consent.  When  Terri 
tories  were  transformed  into  States  they  by 
that  act  acquired  all  the  rights  of  the  States 
that  had  earlier  been  constituted.  America  has 
suffered  too  much  in  her  own  person  not  to  re 
volt  from  employing  European  methods  of  col 
onization  or  even  of  protection.  She  calls  to 
freedom  those  whom  she  welcomes  to  herself. 
And,  as  in  all  her  other  enterprises,  the  com 
mercial  aspect  meets  the  ideal  view.  Her  de 
velopment  is  that  of  a  prosperous  company 
which,  while  extending  its  sphere  of  business 
and  taking  in  new  associates,  immediately  gives 
to  all  a  share  in  its  profits,  granting  to  eleventh- 
hour  stockholders  the  same  advantages  as  to 
those  of  the  early  days.  Her  politics  admit  of 
no  such  factors  as  "original"  and  "preferred" 
shares. 

It  is  certain  that  she  desires  to  extend  her 
self,  and  it  is  impossible  not  to  recognize  the 
existence  of  an  American  imperialism.  But 


150        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

even  in  her  territorial  ambitions  she  proposes 
to  base  act  upon  right.  According  to  her  defini 
tion,  and  very  sincerely,  the  Monroe  Doctrine 
is  only  a  just  insistence  upon  American  inde 
pendence.  When  she  proclaims  that  "the  Amer 
ican  continents,  by  the  free  and  independent 
position  which  they  have  assumed  and  main 
tained,  may  henceforth  never  be  considered  by 
any  European  Power  as  a  domain  for  coloniza 
tion,"  she  only  takes  her  stand  against  all  for 
eign  intervention,  rather  setting  limits  to  Eu 
ropean  ambition  than  asserting  her  own.  She 
has  lately  uttered  the  same  sentiment  by  the 
mouth  of  one  of  her  ambassadors,  Mr.  D.  J. 
Hill.  The  Monroe  Doctrine  expresses  the  right 
of  independent  nations  to  maintain  their  own 
forms  of  government,  and  to  protest  against 
any  nation  entering  upon  a  policy  of  such  a 
nature  as  to  endanger  their  security.1  It  is, 
therefore,  not  a  menace  to  any  established 
rights,  but  a  veto  opposed  to  the  acquisition 
of  new  rights,  of  new  claims  with  which  the 
Old  World  might  propose  to  burden  the  New. 
There  is,  perhaps,  a  hope  (doubtless  more  dis 
tant  to-day  than  ever  before)  of  seeing  at  a 
future  day  the  great  neighbor  States,  Canada 
and  Mexico,  entering  the  Union.  But  if  that 

1  Les  fitats-Unis  et  la  France.     Address  of  Mr.  Hill. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  151 

day  ever  comes,  it  will  not  come  through  pres 
sure  exerted  by  the  United  States,  but  will  be 
the  result  of  the  spontaneous  adherence  of  the 
nations  concerned.  And  in  such  a  case  their 
independence  and  "self-government"  would  be 
fully  respected. 

IV 

THE  PRESIDENT 

He  symbolizes  the  Union. — His  powers. — His  moral  strength: 
he  is  the  conscience  of  the  United  States. — His  judicial  and 
arbitral  character. — He  holds  his  power  only  from  the 
people. 

If  liberty  is  everywhere,  union,  often  less 
manifest,  is  symbolized  in  a  striking  manner, 
not  in  a  parliament,  but  in  a  man,  the  President 
of  the  republic.  This  is  the  secret  of  his  power 
and  authority;  it  explains  their  increase  in  times 
of  national  crisis.  Certainly  he  could  not  say 
with  Louis  XIV,  of  whom  he  is  the  absolute 
antithesis,  "I  am  the  state,"  but  he  might  as 
sert,  giving  the  word  its  true  meaning,  "I  am 
the  nation."  He  does  more  than  represent  it, 
he  expresses  it,  not  only  in  the  eyes  of  the  world 
but  in  his  own  eyes. 

There  is,  perhaps,  nowhere  upon  earth  so 
marked  a  personality  as  that  of  the  President  of 
the  American  Republic.  It  leaves  far  behind 
it  that  of  an  Emperor  of  Germany  or  a  Czar  of 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Russia — when  Russia  had  a  Czar.  To  find  its 
equivalent  we  must  look  to  the  Vatican,  and  we 
shall  see  that,  in  fact,  the  comparison  is  not 
purely  artificial.  He  exercises  a  true  pontificate, 
temporal  and  spiritual,  in  his  country. 

If  such  a  thing  exists  anywhere  in  this  land 
of  liberty,  its  power  is  in  him,  and  in  him  only 
—so  far  as  it  is  in  a  man.  It  is  not  in  Congress, 
however  much  during  recent  years  the  latter 
has  endeavored  to  extend  its  authority.  It  is 
to  be  found  only  in  this  "President,  invested 
with  almost  royal  prerogatives,"1  before  whom 
more  than  one  constitutional  European  mon 
arch  would  indeed  appear  in  a  sufficiently  hum 
ble  light.  His  personal  influence  is  considera 
ble.  In  all  American  life  he  is  almost  the  only 
man  who  counts.  The  rest  exist  only  in  rela 
tions  with  him.  His  ministers  are  his  clerks. 
He  alone  is  responsible  to  Congress,  which, 
during  his  entire  term  of  office,  has  no  other 
weapon  against  him  than  the  procedure  of  "im 
peachment."  He  is  armed  with  the  veto,  which 
suspends  their  decisions.  He  communicates 
with  them  by  messages,  and  receives  directions 
from  them  much  less  than  he  lays  upon  them  his 
own.  He  is  not  more  or  less  relegated  to  the 
shade,  as  in  France,  where  the  personality  of 

1  Izoulet,  preface  to  the  translation  of  The  New  Freedom,  p.  10. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  153 

the  head  of  the  state  is  overshadowed  by  that 
of  the  president  of  the  Council.  He  resolutely 
takes  the  headship  of  the  country,  and  during 
all  his  magistrature  he  has  almost  the  figure  of 
a  sovereign.  Finally,  he  is  re-eligible,  in  prin 
ciple,  indefinitely,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  term, 
and  in  fact  he  is  generally  re-elected,  though 
only  once.  His  election  evokes  a  veritable  na 
tional  crisis  over  the  entire  territory  of  the  Union. 
It  would  seem  at  such  a  moment,  not  so  much 
that  the  life  of  a  party  is  at  stake — American 
parties  are,  on  the  whole,  factitious — as  the  very 
existence  of  the  country.  The  American  seems 
to  be  asking  himself:  "What  shall  I  be?  To 
what  am  I  coming?  What  will  my  choice  do 
to  myself?" 

The  peril  is,  in  fact,  hardly  less  than  this. 
The  President  of  the  United  States  is,  at  the 
same  time,  the  representative  man  of  the  United 
States  and  the  arbiter  of  its  destiny.  The  na 
tion  is  incarnated  in  him,  and  is  transformed  by 
him.  If  he  truly  understands  the  part  he  has 
to  play,  he  should  be,  not  "the  President  of 
a  national  council  of  administration,"  as  Mr. 
Wilson  reproached  his  predecessors  with  having 
too  often  been,  but  "the  President  of  the  people 
of  the  United  States."  *  He  is  only  their 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  74. 


154        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

"mouthpiece,"  their  "speaking-trumpet."  "It 
is  not  his  business  to  judge  for  the  nation,  but 
to  judge  through  the  nation  as  its  spokesman 
and  voice."  1 

Thence  his  function  appears  to  be  formidable, 
and  even  surpasses  that  of  the  head  of  a  State. 
He  is  not  there  merely  to  govern.  His  true 
duty  is  to  speak  the  right  and  cause  it  to  be 
come  a  fact.  He  is  generally  a  lawyer,  and  it  is 
fitting  that  he  should  be  a  legislator.  Briefly 
invested  with  exorbitant  powers,  it  is  expected 
of  him  to  have  a  will  and  to  realize  it  in  acts. 
A  dictator  in  fact,  he  exercises  a  true  moral 
dictatorship.  Far  more  than  the  representative 
of  the  United  States,  he  is  its  conscience.  He 
is  the  only  man  in  this  country,  this  continent, 
this  world,  who  is  the  elect  of  the  entire  terri 
tory,  the  only  man  who  is  chosen  not  by  a 
fraction  of  the  country  but  by  the  country  as  a 
whole.  This  explains  how,  as  soon  as  he  is 
declared  elected,  all  bow  before  him;  his  op 
ponent  of  the  day  before  is  the  first  to  pay  his 
respects  to  him  publicly.  In  him  he  salutes 
the  nation,  and  the  nation  salutes  itself. 

But  this  nation,  made  up  of  so  many  different 
elements,  is  a  confused,  inconstant,  excitable 
mass,  ignorant  of  itself,  seeking  to  know  itself, 

1  /&.,  p.  73. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  155 

but  purposing  to  be.  It  expects  of  the  Presi 
dent  that  he  will  utter  the  moral  formula  by 
which  it  may  discover  and  express  itself.  In 
him  and  by  him  it  hopes  to  assume  a  body,  a 
definite  form,  and  become  conscious  of  its  des 
tiny.  We  have  already  said  that  one  author 
has  spoken  of  his  prerogatives  as  "almost  royal." 
A  better  word  would  have  been  "pontifical." 
He  rules  over  minds  quite  as  much  as  over 
bodies.  "They  who  administer  our  physical 
life  therefore  administer  our  spiritual  life."  1 
He  is  charged  in  some  sort  to  make  sure  that 
each  one  obtains  his  daily  bread,  and  especially 
to  distribute  among  men  that  spiritual  bread, 
justice.  He  is  where  he  is  that  justice  may  be 
upon  earth  for  all  men  of  good-will.  This  is 
not  to  be  a  king,  but  a  pope. 

In  fact,  his  messages  have  in  some  sort  an 
encyclical  tone.  He  has,  and  he  sometimes 
gives  to  others,  the  feeling  that  he  is  exercising 
a  providential  mission.  He  speaks  to  his  ad 
herents  in  the  language  that  they  like  to  hear 
and  that  suits  their  nature,  the  language  of 
jurisprudence.  He  understands,  he  defends, 
sometimes  he  furthers  the  interests  of  his  peo 
ple,  but  he  does  it  always  under  the  segis  of  the 
law. 

1  76.,  p.  199. 


156        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Thence  flows  his  authority,  and  it  is  immense. 
America  not  only  returns  to  herself  in  him,  she 
finds  herself  there.  It  is  his  to  cause  the 
America  of  to-morrow  to  spring  from  the  Amer 
ica  of  to-day,  a  better  world  from  the  present 
world.  In  the  clear  but  apparently  somewhat 
dry  and  rigid  form  characteristic  of  this  people, 
there  is  in  him  something  of  the  inspiration  of 
the  prophet,  to  the  end  that  he  may  exercise 
that  which  is  more  than  a  function,  a  sacer 
dotal  office. 

But  here  let  no  one  deceive  himself;  his 
strength  comes  from  the  people  whose  expres 
sion  he  is,  from  the  public  opinion  that  finds  in 
him  its  voice,  and  even  its  soul.  "The  Presi 
dent  is  personally  responsible  ...  to  the  peo 
ple  by  whom  he  is  chosen."  1  Whatever  may 
be  his  personal  worth — and  it  is  often  consider 
able — it  is  nothing  by  itself  and  without  this 
point  of  support.  He  may  have  no  personal 
ambition,  may  not  dream  of  establishing  his 
dominion  over  the  country  by  a  sudden  act  of 
force.  He  may  only  seek  his  way  among  all 
the  currents  of  contrary  opinions  and  endeavor 
to  become  at  every  moment  the  faithful  repre 
sentative  of  what  is  confusedly  thought  and 
willed  by  the  mass  from  whose  bosom  he  has 

1  Bryce,  op.  cit.,  I,  69. 


THE   NATIONAL  IDEAL  157 

emerged,  and  over  whom  he  hovers  as  arbiter 
and  guide.  Not  that  he  should  be  their  reflec 
tion  or  echo,  content  himself  with  a  sheep-like 
and  passive  execution  of  orders  emanating 
from  below.  On  the  contrary,  he  must  have 
a  powerful  personality,  one  in  which  are  con 
centrated  all  other  personalities,  and  which, 
when  the  moment  for  action  comes,  can  per 
form  precisely  what  the  nation  expects  of  him, 
that  is,  of  itself. 

There  are,  indeed,  some  peculiarly  tragic  mo 
ments  in  which,  in  the  midst  of  the  hurricane, 
the  national  will  feels  that  it  should  decide  for 
itself,  and  knows  not  clearly  what  decision  it 
should  make.  In  such  moments  of  indecision 
and  hesitation,  which  every  man  knows,  and  in 
which  his  destiny  is  fixed,  when  one  is  at  the 
parting  of  the  ways,  it  may  well  be  that  a  strong 
individuality  may  direct  the  nation  into  one 
path  rather  than  another.  But  even  then  it 
simply  makes  a  channel  for  energies  already 
existing  and  reveals  them  to  themselves.  Per 
haps,  before  President  Wilson  said  the  decisive 
words,  America  was  not  sure  that  she  desired 
war  with  Germany;  perhaps  if  he  had  not  uttered 
them  (admitting  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing) 
she  would  not  have  entered  the  arena.  But 
from  the  day  when  they  were  spoken  she  recog- 


158        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

nized  them  as  her  own.  By  his  lips  the  nation 
had  pronounced  its  verdict. 

Such  is  the  power  of  the  President.  His  au 
thority  is  moral  and  legal,  the  authority  of  a 
judge.  He  does  not  so  much  reach  decisions  as 
pronounce  sentences. 

Thus  we  are  led  up  to  what  constitutes  the 
very  essence  of  American  politics,  the  idea  of 
justice,  and  to  that  which  is,  for  Americans, 
as  the  Table  of  the  Law,  on  which  are  engraved 
the  imperishable  principles  of  justice,  the  Con 
stitution. 

V 

THE  LAW 

Pre-eminence  of  the  judicial  power. — The  Supreme  Court  the 
guardian  of  the  Constitution. — Unity  of  legal  orientation. 
— Every  functionary  is  a  judge  giving  sentence  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  Constitution. — The  States  "centrifugal 
forces,"  and  the  Constitution  the  "centripetal  force." — 
Justice  and  legality  the  bases  of  the  American  nation. — 
"Honesty  is  the  best  policy." — The  unity  of  America  and 
"the  Indestructibility  of  the  Union." 

In  the  United  States  the  real  power  is  not 
political  but  judicial.  Above  Congress,  above 
the  President,  stands  the  Supreme  Court,  the 
guardian  and  interpreter  of  the  Constitution. 
Composed  of  seven  federal  judges  who  are 
statesmen  as  well  as  legists,  it  is  this  court 
which  finally  by  its  interpretations  and  decisions 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  159 

maintains  the  moral  and  political  unity  of  the 
country. 

Imagine  the  French  Cour  de  Cassation  in 
vested  with  such  powers  as  this  court  creates — 
not  only  uniformity  of  legal  process  in  private 
quarrels,  not  only  a  like  uniformity  in  those 
differences  which  bring  individuals  into  con 
flict  with  the  machinery  of  the  State,  but  also 
uniformity  of  views  and  tendencies  in  differences 
between  the  States  themselves.  The  Supreme 
Court  is  a  great  council  which  legally  and  sover 
eignly  decides  all  questions  of  every  order, 
public  or  private,  political,  social,  even  diplo 
matic,  which  can  arise  within  the  Union.  It 
summons  nations  as  well  as  individuals  to  its 
bar.  For  the  different  fractions  of  the  United 
States  it  is  what  The  Hague  Tribunal  would 
fain  have  been  for  the  different  fractions  of  the 
civilized  world.  The  State  of  Ohio  pleads 
against  the  State  of  New  York  as,  in  a  memora 
ble  case,  France  pleaded  against  Italy.  But 
instead  of  being  a  special  tribunal  whose  chief 
function  is  to  conciliate  and  treat  with  circum 
spection  the  parties  at  issue,  instead  of  always 
being  aware  over  its  head  of  that  "appeal"  to 
arms  which,  at  least  until  now,  has  been  the 
ultimate  reason  of  peoples  in  litigation,  it  pro 
nounces  with  authority,  and  all  bow  before  its 


160        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

decisions.  Superior  to  the  legislative  power,  to 
the  executive  power,  with  no  risk  of  being  held 
in  check  by  a  military  power  that  has  no  exist 
ence,  the  Supreme  Court  represents  that  true 
principle  of  unity  which  has  hitherto  been  sought 
in  vain.  The  unity  of  the  United  States  is  less 
one  of  fact  than  of  ideal.  If  one  may  so  speak, 
it  is  a  unity  of  juristic  orientation. 

Just  as  in  France  the  entire  magistrature,  in 
all  its  ranks,  has  its  eyes  fixed  on  the  Cour  de 
Cassation  (Court  of  Appeals),  and  draws  in 
spiration  from  its  decisions,  so  here  every 
magistrate  of  every  order  and  degree  turns 
toward  the  Supreme  Court  to  throw  light  upon 
and  determine  their  decisions.  They  know, 
indeed,  that  by  hearkening  to  or  imitating  it 
they  run  no  risk  of  departing  from  the  law. 
The  Supreme  Court  has  always  confined  itself 
to  its  judicial  functions,  has  placed  itself  out 
side  of  and  above  all  individual  and  even  na 
tional  questions,  has  never  discredited  its  au 
thority  by  permitting  itself  to  be  influenced  by 
political  passions  or  prepossessions.  It  has 
always  been  true  to  its  functions,  which  are  to 
act  against  the  abuse  of  power  and  the  violation 
of  the  Constitution.  It  considers  "itself  as  a 
pure  organ  of  the  law,  commissioned  to  do  jus 
tice  between  man  and  man."  1 

1  Bryce,  op.  cit.,  I,  376. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  161 

Thus  the  Constitution,  interpreted  by  the 
Supreme  Court,  is  to  the  American  magistrate 
what  the  Code  interpreted  by  the  Cour  de 
Cassation  is  to  the  French  magistrate.  It  may, 
therefore,  be  understood  that  there  exists  a 
solid  if  intangible  bond  between  the  members 
of  this  administration,  which  is  yet  so  little 
centralized  and  not  at  all  pontifical.  American 
office-holders  have  not  in  the  least  their  eyes 
fixed  upon  a  chief,  a  superior,  upon  whom  they 
depend;  their  eyes  are  fixed  upon  the  law,  or 
rather  upon  the  Constitution,  which  it  is  for 
them  to  apply  in  the  sphere  of  their  respec 
tive  functions.  As  a  consequence  they  seek 
direction,  not,  as  with  us,  in  capricious  and 
changeable  ministerial  instructions,  but  in  im 
mutable  principles  from  which  they  may  not 
depart. 

Thence  it  arises  that,  notwithstanding  the 
faults  and  even  the  vices  of  some  among  them, 
notwithstanding  the  too  numerous  examples  of 
corruption  and  venality  in  their  ranks,  they 
represent  to  their  fellow  citizens  something  en 
tirely  different  from  that  which  their  European 
colleagues  represent  to  those  under  their  juris 
diction.  "The  European  often  sees  in  the 
public  functionary  only  force;  the  American 
sees  in  him  the  law.  One  may  then  say  that  in 


162        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

America  a  man  never  obeys  another  man,  but 
always  justice  and  the  law."  1 

The  fact  that  the  functionary  is  elected,  not 
named  by  the  central  power,  can  only  reinforce 
the  legal  character  with  which  he  is  clothed. 
His  origin  perhaps  may  lead  to  the  suspicion 
that  he  is  accessible  to  too  many  personal  in 
fluences,  dominated  by  party  or  society  spirit. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  has  the  confidence  of 
the  public.  More  than  anything  else  the  elected 
officer  takes  on  the  character  of  an  umpire. 

This  need  of  arbitration  always  makes  itself 
strongly  felt  in  young  societies,  spontaneously 
formed,  whose  rights  are  less  clearly  defined, 
their  titles  more  readily  disputable.  We  see  it 
in  the  early  days  of  the  Roman  republic,  we 
see  it  also  in  the  American  republic,  of  relatively 
recent  formation.  The  magistrate  there  ap 
pears  somewhat  as  a  judge,  having  either  to 
pronounce  between  private  interests  or  in  dis 
putes  continually  arising  between  private  per 
sons  and  the  society  of  which  they  are  mem 
bers — village  or  county. 

But  if  every  magistrate  is  something  of  a 
judge,  the  judge  properly  so-called  seems  like 
a  privileged  magistrate.  In  fact,  even  to-day 
he  is  clothed  with  immense  political  power. 

1  De  Tocqueville,  De  la  Democratic  en  Amtrique,  I,  157. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  163 

Such  a  conception  is  necessary  in  a  country 
where  society  is  still  so  near  to  a  state  of  nature, 
and  where,  consequently,  all  possible  power 
must  be  given  to  the  law,  to  prevent  the  indi 
vidual  being  subjected  to  the  law  of  force. 

But  the  law  itself  sometimes  risks  being  de 
fective.  It  may  be  the  work  of  a  party;  it  may, 
at  least  in  certain  cases,  have  been  made  by 
uneducated  and  inexperienced  legislators.  In 
such  cases  it  is  the  duty  of  the  judge  to  pro 
nounce,  not  in  accordance  with,  but  against  the 
law.  This  is  why  the  Americans  have  recog 
nized  in  their  judges  the  right  to  base  their  de 
cisions  upon  the  Constitution,  and  not  upon 
the  laws,  and  not  to  enforce  laws  that  appear 
to  them  to  be  unconstitutional.  It  is  indeed  not 
enough  to  say  that  this  is  their  right,  it  is  their 
duty,  an  imperious  precept.  The  humblest 
judge  in  an  American  State  is  obliged  to  pro 
nounce  upon  the  constitutionality  of  a  law.1 

A  dreadful  obligation,  an  exorbitant  power, 
if  ever  there  was  one.  The  judge  is  the  judge 
not  only  of  cases  but  of  laws;  he  is  the  judge 
not  only  of  parties  but  of  legislators.  So  that 
in  each  particular  State  in  the  Union  generally 
this  menace  always  hangs  over  the  heads  of 
those  who  make  the  law:  they  are  themselves 

1  Bryce,  Ab.  Ed.,  p.  384. 


164        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

amenable  to  the  conscience  of  the  judge  enlight 
ened  by  the  Constitution. 

The  Constitution,  which  dominates  all  laws, 
cannot  be  modified  by  a  law,  but  only  by  a  direct 
popular  vote.  And  this  may  occur,  in  a  given 
State,  only  on  exceptional  occasions,  and  in 
the  Union  still  more  seldom.  There  is,  then, 
something  immutable  in  this  land  of  universal 
change,  and  this  something  is  the  law  of  the 
laws.  It  may  become  more  pliable  with  time, 
adapt  itself  to  divers  circumstances,  but  funda 
mentally  it  remains  identical  with  itself,  and 
maintains  the  substantial  identity  of  the  United 
States.  It  is  in  some  sort  the  gazing-point  of 
all  citizens,  causes  all  thoughts  and  wills  to 
converge  in  one  direction,  imposes  moral  unity 
upon  this  fluctuating  diversity.  Everything 
gravitates  toward  it,  and  this  is  how  unity  is 
made  among  these  scattered  elements.  Each 
atom  acts  upon  its  own  impulse,  but  all  are  at 
tracted  to  the  same  sun. 

This  is  not  a  mere  comparison,  but  the  accu 
rate  expression  of  a  fact.  The  difficulty,  appar 
ently  insoluble,  was  to  bring  together  in  one 
unaccustomed  movement  elements  carried  along 
by  diverse  impulses.  The  different  States  rep 
resent  so  many  "existing  centrifugal  forces,"  l 

1  Bryce,  ib.,  p.  11. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  165 

each  seeking,  like  the  planets  of  the  solar  sys 
tem,  to  fly  off  in  divergent  directions.  It  was 
necessary,  without  suppressing  them,  to  subject 
them  to  a  centripetal  force,  which  should  bring 
them  all  into  harmony  while  respecting  the  in 
dependence  of  each.  The  United  States  dis 
covered  how  to  perform  this  feat. 

Look  at  the  country.  Everything  seems  to 
tend  to  resolve  it  into  its  constituent  parts. 
Here,  first  of  all,  are  distinct  nations,  with  the 
inevitable  rivalries  and  competitions  which  such 
distinctions  imply.  The  only  feature  which 
they  seem  at  first  sight  to  possess  in  common 
is  that  in  each  there  is  nothing  in  common 
among  the  people  that  compose  them.  Every 
where  are  only  restless  individuals,  turned  loose, 
hustling  one  another  and  being  hustled  in  their 
turn.  Every  one  goes  at  gee  and  haw,  each 
taking  his  own  way  without  caring  what  be 
comes  of  his  neighbor.  It  is  a  foam  of  States, 
each  resolving  itself  into  a  foam  of  individuals. 
And  yet  equilibrium  takes  place,  the  nation 
emerges  from  the  very  movement  that  carries 
them  all  along.  This  is  what  there  is  in  an 
association,  unconscious,  perhaps,  but  sincere 
and  strong,  in  any  great  idea,  in  any  principle 
of  common  action.  "Hitch  your  wagon  to  a 
star,"  said  Emerson  to  his  fellow  citizens. 


166        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

They  all  hitched  theirs  to  the  same  star,  the  star 
of  justice,  which  took  on  in  their  eyes  the 
concrete  form  of  the  Constitution.  Here  is  the 
fixed  point  for  the  American,  the  object  of  his 
simple  and  tenacious  faith.  "Before  all  else 
he  believes  in  the  Constitution,  which  protects 
life,  liberty,  and  property."  1 

Is  this  to  say  that  the  Constitution  is  per 
fect?  No  more  than  any  other  human  work, 
and  it  has  incurred  many  criticisms.  Washing 
ton,  who  saw  and  exaggerated  its  imperfections, 
finding  in  it  "a  host  of  vices  and  inexpedien 
cies,"  2  blamed  it  for  not  giving  sufficiently 
extensive  powers  to  the  central  government, 
and  for  "probably  having  too  good  an  opinion 
of  human  nature."  3  He  feared  that  individuals 
would  make  bad  use  of  the  liberty  that  it  granted 
them.  In  fact,  his  reservations  may  well  be 
understood;  they  were  theoretically  just,  but 
they  have  not  been  practically  justified. 

The  truth  is  that  the  Americans  have  mar 
vellously  found  the  way  to  make  use  of  the 
—perhaps  only  moderately  good — instrument 
which  they  had  made.  "The  imperfections  of 
the  tool  are  the  genius  of  the  worker."  4  And 
the  worker  was  incomparable.  Mr.  Wilson 

1  Les  fitats-Unis  et  la  France.     Address  of  Mr.  Hill,  p.  217. 

2  J.  Fabre,  Washington,  p.  271.  3  /&.,  p.  268.  4  /&.,  p.  268. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  167 

quotes  the  conclusion  reached  by  an  English 
man:  "To  show  that  the  American  Constitu 
tion  had  worked  well  was  no  proof  that  it  is  an 
excellent  constitution,  because  Americans  '  could 
work  any  constitution.' " *  As  to  the  mechanism 
in  itself,  and  the  wheel-work  that  keeps  in  mo 
tion  the  machinery  of  the  State,  there  may  be 
much  to  say  in  disparagement.  But  for  such 
a  people  these  are  secondary  points,  negligible 
details.  What  they  have  been  able  to  discern 
and  to  retain  in  the  charter  which  they  made 
for  themselves  is  the  spirit  of  legality  and 
morality  which  inspires  it. 

This  idea  of  law  is  so  deeply  imprinted  upon 
the  heart  of  the  American  that  we  find  it  even 
at  the  basis  of  his  Revolution.  It  was  quite 
the  opposite  of  a  revolt,  it  was  the  resolute  and 
well-considered  protest  of  conscience.  He  was 
not  moved  to  it  by  a  vague  desire  for  better 
conditions,  or  by  impatience  of  external  author 
ity,  but  above  all  by  the  need  of  that  inward 
moral  authority,  emanating  from  reason,  which 
alone  gives  to  life  a  solid  basis,  by  the  full  pos 
session  of  itself.  "It  was  not  urged  on  by  dis 
orderly  passions,  but  went  forward  with  a  love 
of  order  and  legality."  2  The  Americans  felt  in 

1  Bryce,  The  American  Commonwealth. 

2  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  234. 


168        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

1776  with  regard  to  their  oppressor  what  they 
felt  in  1917  before  the  German  menace,  that 
the  sole  means  of  being  free  and  happy  is  to 
be  just. 

General  Washington  had,  at  that  time,  as 
clear  a  consciousness  of  this  as  Professor  Wilson 
to-day.  For  Washington  the  republic  will  be 
moral  or  it  will  not  be:  "Our  politics  must 
have  for  its  basis  the  purest  principles  of  private 
morality,  and  the  same  virtues  which  commend 
the  good  man  to  the  esteem  of  his  fellows  must 
commend  our  republic  to  the  esteem  of  the 
world.  If  there  is  any  firmly  established  truth, 
it  is  the  indissoluble  tie  between  virtue  and 
happiness,  between  the  maxims  of  a  just  gov 
ernment  and  the  solid  rewards  of  public  pros 
perity."  l  "It  is  true,  in  the  strictest  sense  of 
the  word,  that  virtue  and  morals  are  the  moving 
spring  of  a  popular  government."  2  And  in  his 
Farewell  Address  and  political  testament  his 
last  thought  was  the  supreme  affirmation  of 
justice.  "The  path  of  duty  is  open  before  us; 
each  step  will  show  us  that  virtue  is  the  best 
and  the  only  true  politics.  .  .  .  Let  us,  therefore, 
as  a  nation,  be  just."  3 

All  who  have  followed  after  him,  thinkers  or 
statesmen,  have  spoken  in  the  same  terms. 

1 J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  115.  2  Ib.,  p.  325.  3  lb.,  p.  262. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL  169 

Fiat  justitia  is  the  watchword  which,  inscribed 
in  the  Constitution,  rules  the  development  of 
American  politics.  Politics  must  be  nursed  upon 
the  knees  of  morality.  It  was  Emerson  who 
said:  "The  object  of  all  political  struggle  is  to 
make  morality  the  basis  of  legislation.  .  .  . 
Morality  is  the  basis  of  government." l  Mr. 
Roosevelt  preaches  at  the  same  time  "the  gospel 
of  efficiency,"  and  "the  gospel  of  morality."  2 
President  Wilson,  before  plunging  his  country 
into  the  war  that  is  to  bring  justice  to  the 
world,  insists  upon  "a  free  and  a  just  govern 
ment."  3  All  of  them  make  the  thought  of 
Franklin  their  own:  "Honesty  is  the  best 
policy." 

Upon  this  point  the  leading  minds  of  the 
United  States  have  shown  themselves  immova 
ble.  Born  of  justice,  they  have  always  sought 
to  guide  their  nation  in  the  ways  of  justice.  If 
they  had  held  less  high  and  firm  the  standard 
of  Right,  that  rallying-point  for  the  various  por 
tions  of  the  Confederation,  the  latter  would  have 
been  crushed  and  broken.  It  could  not  have 
survived  its  terrible  crises,  because  these,  over 
and  above  the  interests  at  stake,  were  for  it 
crises  of  conscience.  The  struggle  against  for- 

1  Emerson,  Essays.  2  Roosevelt,  American  Ideals,  p.  35, 

8  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  218. 


170        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

eign  oppression,  against  human  slavery,  and 
now  against  the  menace  of  world-subjugation, 
have  been  so  many  manifestations  of  the  spirit 
of  justice  which,  after  having  permitted  them 
to  define  and  to  realize  their  national  ideal,  have 
at  last  led  them  to  conceive  and  to  affirm  their 
international  ideal. 

There  is,  therefore,  an  America,  and  not  some 
United  States.  There  is  an  America  because  a 
country  is  something  to  will  and  to  make  in 
common,  and  this  something  exists.  All  Ameri 
cans  insist  upon  "the  indestructibility  of  the 
Union."  1  All  conceive  of  their  country  as  "an 
indissoluble  Union  of  indestructible  States."  2 
Above  all  individual  and  local  interests  appears 
"the  spirit  of  the  Union,"3  without  which  this 
"great  whole"  would  never  have  been  made.4 

This  spirit  is  not  narrowly  mercantile,  but 
broadly  human.  It  is  without  doubt  an  aspira 
tion  after  happiness,  but  happiness  is  not  con 
ceived  as  accessible  by  petty  or  indirect  means. 
It  can  be  reached  only  by  the  highroad,  and 
this  road  must  be  open  to  all.  To  assure  to 
each  one  the  conditions  of  free  development  a 
country  is  necessary,  a  "great  country."  Now, 

1  Bryce,  op.  tit.,  p.  232.  2  76. 

3  J.  Fabre,  op.  tit.,  p.  260.  « Ib.,  p.  163. 


THE  NATIONAL  IDEAL          171 

it  is  the  law  alone  which  guarantees  freedom. 
"In  our  day  the  law  must  come  to  the  assis 
tance  of  the  individual.  It  must  come  to  his 
assistance  to  see  that  he  gets  fair  play.  That 
is  all,  but  it  is  much."  1 

We  see  that  this  liberty  must  be  a  just  liberty. 
It  refuses  privileges  or  advantages  gained  at 
the  expense  of  any  one's  independence.  It 
lifts  itself  up  against  all  aggressive  or  violent 
tendencies  in  men,  classes,  or  peoples.  It  con 
fers  upon  each  the  right  to  bring  before  the 
judge  every  iniquity  of  which  he  believes  him 
self  to  be  the  victim.  It  imposes  upon  the 
judge  the  duty  of  pronouncing  always  accord 
ing  to  equity,  even  though,  so  to  do,  he  be 
obliged  to  pass  beyond  the  will  of  the  legislator 
and  appeal  to  the  Constitution.  America  was 
to  be  that  justice  might  be 

Liberty  and  justice:  these  are  what  repre 
sent  America  to  the  citizen  of  the  United  States, 
a  whole  liberty,  a  whole  justice  for  himself  and 
for  all,  in  a  word,  for  man.  We  see  in  what 
sense  America  is  a  nation  of  individuals.  It  is 
a  nation  in  order  that  the  individual  may  be, 
that  the  "rights  of  man"  may  cease  to  be  a 
theoretic  affirmation  and  become  a  power,  the 
power  of  man  realizing,  in  a  political  order,  at 

1  Wilson,  op.  cit.,  p.  284. 


172        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

once  most  flexible  and  most  legal,  all  that  it 
can  be.  "Our  part  is  to  promote  to  their  far 
thest  limits  the  ends  of  liberty  and  justice."  1 

1  Emerson,  Essays. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL 

I 

AMERICAN  INTERNATIONALISM 

America  an  inter-nation. — Contrast  between  the  disunited 
states  of  Europe  and  the  United  States  of  America. — Re 
jection  of  the  system  of  alliances  and  the  politics  of  con 
quest. — The  Monroe  Doctrine  and  American  isolation. — 
The  Americanization  of  the  United  States. — Tendency 
toward  the  conception  and  accomplishment  of  international 
duty. 

UR  part  is  to  promote  to  their  farthest 
limits  the  ends  of  liberty  and  justice." 
But  to  hold  to  the  realization  of  na 
tional  aims  would  be  to  stop  half  way;  fully 
to  accomplish  the  task  one  must  work  for 
the  aims  of  humanity.  This  is  what  the  Amer 
ican,  impelled  by  the  logic  of  his  morals,  ought 
to  have  done,  and  this  is  what  he  has  done. 

More  than  any  others,  his  people  were  called 
into  being  to  understand  and  practise  what 
one  of  them  has  called  "its  international 
duty."1  Is  she  not  herself  an  Inter-nation? 

1  Koyce,  The  Duty  of  Americans  in  the  Present  War,  p.  3. 
173 


174        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Not  only,  nor  especially,  because  in  her  blood 
is  mingled  the  blood  of  many  races,  but  also, 
and  principally,  because  she  is  a  union  or  associ 
ation  of  States,  each  one  of  which  preserves  its 
autonomy.  It  was  therefore  enough  for  her 
to  extend  to  all  civilization  the  conception 
which  she  has  of  herself,  in  order  for  her  to 
feel  her  obligations  to  the  whole  world. 

No  doubt  we  shall  find  in  Europe,  and  nota 
bly  in  England  and  France,  the  elements  of 
such  a  conception,  but  in  those  countries  its 
character  is  at  once  theoretical  and  timid,  while 
the  Americans  have  boldly  entered  upon  the 
road  of  realization.  In  our  relations  of  nation 
with  nation,  we  have  in  practice  only  alliances 
between  equals,  and  certain  countries  even  lay 
claim  to  the  right  of  subordinating  inferior  na 
tions  to  those  that  are  superior,  or  who  pride 
themselves  upon  being  such.  In  short,  we  have 
either  a  balance  of  powers  or  power  imposing 
itself  upon  weakness,  but  never  relations  of 
right  in  the  international  domain. 

An  alliance  is  not  a  union.  It  expresses  it 
self  by  agreements — which  in  themselves  are 
precarious  and  reversible — between  personali 
ties  who  remain  independent  and  do  not  even 
admit  of  a  relation  of  mutual  interdependence 
between  them.  Each  develops  by  itself,  ac- 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    175 

cording  to  its  own  laws,  no  common  organ  bind 
ing  together  their  distinct  governments.  The 
alliance  is  limited  to  a  certain  number  of  deter 
mined  points;  it  functions  only  in  cases  pro 
vided  for  (generally  an  eventual  war)  and  pur 
sues  only  definite  objects.  Furthermore,  each 
one  practises  what  has  been  more  or  less  happily 
called  "righteous  self-interest,"  and  refuses  a 
close  and,  above  all,  a  permanent  collaboration 
with  his  allies.  If  the  anticipated  eventuality 
arises,  the  alliance  works;  when  that  ceases,  it 
no  longer  functions,  for  its  object  is  not  to  asso 
ciate  destinies  but  to  co-ordinate  efforts.  And 
even  while  it  functioned  there  was  always  the 
difficulty  of  constituting  a  connecting  organism. 
We  see  this  only  too  clearly  in  the  present  war- 
so  much  does  each  of  the  members  dread  to  find 
one  of  his  partners  claiming  supremacy. 

The  word  alliance  in  itself  implies  disunited 
states  seeking  to  come  to  an  understanding 
through  compromises.  It  presupposes  either  war 
or  a  state  of  war;  it  is  always  directed  against 
other  nations  who  are  dreaded  or  whom  it 
threatens.  It  never  has  a  directly  pacific  pur 
pose.  If,  as  may  happen,  it  is  made  for  the 
purpose  of  maintaining  peace,  it  is  always  be 
cause  there  is  somewhere  else  a  people  or  a 
group  of  peoples  who  propose  to  disturb  the 


176        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

peace.  The  system  of  alliances,  the  only  system 
hitherto  known  and  practised  by  European 
diplomacy,  recognizes  by  its  very  existence  the 
state  of  war  as  the  normal  condition  of  peoples. 
It  is,  therefore,  from  the  international  point  of 
view,  at  best  a  palliative  and,  more  often  per 
haps,  a  danger.  "Triple  alliance"  against  "tri 
ple  entente"  brings  about  first  the  necessity  of 
armed  peace,  and  then  war  let  loose. 

The  United  States,  fundamentally  pacific, 
have  always  refused  to  enter  upon  any  system 
of  alliances  whatever.  This  has  been  their  un 
varying  policy  with  regard  to  Europe,  and 
even  to-day  the  very  special  place  that  they 
occupy  in  what  may  be  called  the  great  con 
federation  of  Right  makes  them  rather  an  in 
finitely  precious  auxiliary  than  an  ally,  properly 
so  called.  They  did  not  sign  the  Agreement  of 
London,  and  the  end  that  they  pursue,  the  peace 
of  the  world  organized  upon  a  legal  basis,  would 
ipso  facto  result  in  the  suppression  of  all  alli 
ances  and  the  establishment  of  a  union  in  their 
place. 

They  do  not  desire  a  balance  of  Powers,  be 
cause  they  desire  that  there  shall  be  no  Powers 
in  the  particular  sense  of  the  word  as  here  em 
ployed,  no  permanent  military  forces  always  on 
a  war  footing,  ever  ready  for  aggression.  The 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    177 

policy  of  equilibrium  is  the  policy  of  the  see 
saw;  its  necessary,  inevitable  outcome  is  a 
fall  into  " hideous  war." 

Where  there  is  no  alliance  there  is  something 
worse,  namely  domination,  open  or  concealed. 
It  is  concealed  where  a  strong  nation,  by  the 
very  fact  of  its  strength  and  its  efficient  mani 
festation  of  authority,  drags  in  its  wake  a  weak 
nation  whose  independence  is  henceforth  purely 
nominal.  This  policy  Germany  has  always  pro 
posed  to  follow  in  the  case  of  small  states.  One 
among  them,  unusually  small,  Luxembourg, 
had  only  a  semblance  of  life,  and  was  the  ob 
ject  of  a  disguised  annexation  by  means  of  Ger 
many's  railroads.  Before  the  war  she  attempted 
to  subject  Switzerland,  Holland,  and  Belgium 
to  a  less  evident  but  at  times  sufficiently  effica 
cious  pressure,  notably  in  the  vote  at  the  Got- 
hard  Convention,  which  was  her  work.  The  atti 
tude  of  King  Constantine  has  shown  that  Greece 
was  little  more  than  a  German  colony.  The 
Austro-Hungarian  Empire,  enormous  as  it  was, 
had  long  before  1914  ceased  to  belong  to  itself, 
and  the  Turkey  of  Enver  Pasha  had  not  for  a 
long  time  had  any  other  government  than  that 
at  Berlin.  In  fact,  the  persevering  effort  toward 
the  constituting  of  Mittel-Europa  (a  delicate 


178        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

euphemism  for  Pan-Germania)  is  only  the  sys 
tematic  extension  of  the  same  principle. 

Sometimes  the  rougher  method  of  annexa 
tion,  pure  and  simple,  is  adopted.  Too  often  it 
takes  place  at  the  expense  of  civilized  peoples. 
This  is  seen  in  the  domination  of  Germany  over 
Poland  and  Alsace,  that  of  Austria  over  Bohemia 
and  the  irredentist  regions,  and  how  many 
others !  But  notwithstanding  far  too  numer 
ous  and  painful  examples,  this  is  nevertheless 
the  exception;  the  oppressed  nation  finally  suc 
ceeds,  as  did  Switzerland  long  ago  and  Greece 
more  recently,  in  regaining  its  independence. 
Contrariwise,  with  regard  to  uncivilized  peoples, 
the  exception  becomes  the  rule:  total  seizure  is 
effected  under  the  form  of  colonization  or,  at 
best,  of  protectorate. 

Yet  even  here,  we  find,  are  degrees  of  domina 
tion.  Even  when  it  does  not  go  as  far  as  the 
abominable  treatment  to  which  the  Germans 
have  subjected  the  natives  of  the  Congo,  it  is 
at  times  very  harsh,  the  conquered  populations 
being  deprived  of  the  right  of  self -administration. 
This  is  generally  the  case  with  African  colonies; 
it  is  also  that  of  British  India.  At  times,  on 
the  contrary,  especially  where  European  civiliza 
tion  has  largely  penetrated,  and  when  the 
whites  are  in  the  majority,  or  at  least  in  force, 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    179 

a  more  flexible  and  generally  happier  method 
is  adopted,  that  self-government  which  Eng 
land  has  so  marvellously  applied  to  her  divers 
dominions.  They  enjoy  an  autonomy  of  fact, 
if  not  of  right.  But  none  the  less  remains  the 
domination,  however  restrained,  of  the  parent 
state  over  the  colonies;  the  latter  never  stand 
upon  the  same  level  as  herself.  The  Council 
of  the  Empire,  instituted  by  Mr.  Lloyd  George, 
tends  toward,  without  fully  effecting,  union. 
It  is  in  fact  an  Empire,  not  a  Republic,  which 
England  has  constituted  throughout  the  world. 
Its  elements  are  half  co-ordinate,  half  subordi 
nate;  they  do  not  form  a  voluntary  and  con 
current  group. 

There  is,  then,  no  European  internationalism 
nor  European  patriotism,  because  there  is  no 
Europe.  Europe  has  a  geographical  unity  with 
out  having  a  political  unity;  she  is  a  continent, 
or  a  large  fraction  of  a  continent,  she  is  not  a 
country.  There  is  an  America,  one  geograph 
ically  and  in  a  large  degree  politically.  There 
is,  therefore,  an  American  internationalism  and 
an  American  patriotism.  There  is  that  strange 
and  to  us  paradoxical  thing,  an  international 
patriotism,  subordinating  to  itself,  without  sup 
pressing,  the  various  national  patriotisms. 


180        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Europe  is  multiple  without  being  one;  she 
is  divided.  America  is  at  the  same  time  one 
and  multiple;  she  is  united.  The  patriotism  of 
the  United  States  is  beyond  its  cause.  It  de 
clares  itself  with  fervor,  with  pride,  and,  where 
Europe  is  concerned,  with  a  shade  of  con 
tempt.  A  citizen  of  America  has  no  right  to 
look  back  to  his  origin;  from  the  moment  when 
he  sets  foot  upon  the  soil  of  the  United  States 
he  should  no  longer  know  that  he  was  ever 
Russian  or  German,  French,  English,  or  Italian. 
He  is  there  "to  do  the  work  there  of  an  Ameri 
can,"  l  and  to  assimilate  himself  thoroughly 
with  his  new  country.  This  country  is  incom 
parable,  "the  greatest  in  the  world,"  that  to 
which  the  world  looks  for  its  destiny.  "Our 
nation  is  that  one  among  all  the  nations  of  the 
earth  which  holds  in  its  hands  the  fate  of  the 
coming  years." 2  The  citizen  of  the  Union 
should  not  turn  too  curious  a  gaze,  nor  one  too 
full  of  desire,  toward  the  Old  World;  he  should 
not  seek  to  Europeanize  himself,  to  count 
among  "the  weaklings  who  seek  to  be  other 
than  Americans."  3  Mr.  Wilson,  less  dithy- 
rambic  than  Mr.  Roosevelt,  is  not  less  firm  in 
his  restrained  ardor.  He  praises  "the  original 
Americanism,  .  .  .  faith  in  the  ability  of  a  con- 

1  Roosevelt,  American  Ideals,  p.  23.         2  76.,  p.  18.          3  76.,  p.  22. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    181 

fident,  resourceful,  and  independent  people."  1 
He  proclaims  that  "the  vigor  of  America 
pulses  in  the  blood  of  every  true  American."  2 
To  such  a  country  all  ambitions  are  lawful, 
and  the  future  opens  before  it  an  illimitable 
prospect.  It  will  be  impossible  to  be  more 
strongly,  more  intensely,  and  at  the  same  time 
more  artlessly  patriotic  than  they  are  in  the 
United  States. 

But  at  the  same  time  the  American  has  an 
international  soul.  This  is  because  his  country 
is  itself  a  world,  not  only  nor  essentially  be 
cause  of  its  extent,  its  physical  greatness,  the 
range  of  its  climate,  or  the  diversity  of  its  pro 
ductions,  for  from  all  these  points  of  view  Rus 
sia  is  its  equal  or  its  superior.  No,  it  is  a  world 
by  its  organization,  because  this  country  is  a 
synthesis  of  many  countries.  It  joins  without 
absorbing  them,  it  multiplies  the  force  that 
inheres  in  each  by  the  powers  of  all  the  others, 
while  maintaining  their  special  physiognomy. 
Each  State  is  an  individual  sui  generis,  entirely 
free,  bound  to  the  other  States  by  relations  of 
right,  not  of  fact.  America  springs  from  them, 
they  do  not  arise  from  her.  Thus  there  is  no 
American  colonization,  no  American  sphere  of 
influence,  no  American  hegemony,  no  guardian- 

1  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  5ti.  2  Wilson,  op.  dt.,  p.  99. 


182        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

ship  of  strong  over  weak,  no  relation  of  master 
and  servant,  or  protector  and  protected.  All 
free,  all  equal,  all  united  in  the  one  thought  of 
maintaining  and,  if  possible,  of  increasing  this 
liberty  and  equality.  America  has  been  able 
to  realize  what  Washington  called  "the  harmony 
of  nations,"  1  and  by  this  harmony  to  cause  to 
spring  to  life  a  new,  vernal,  original  nation,  made 
of  all  the  others,  and  without  suppressing  them, 
including  them  all  in  its  sphere  of  influence. 

Therefore  it  was  logical  that  at  a  given  moment 
of  its  development  America  should  in  some  sort 
take  the  lead  in  forming  a  league  for  the  constitu 
tion  of  a  world  nation.  Not  by  the  way  of  con 
quest  and  annexation,  which  would  be  the  very 
negation  of  its  principles  and  a  sort  of  moral 
suicide  shortly  preceding  its  natural  disintegra 
tion,  but  by  a  sort  of  generalization  of  the 
method  to  which  it  owed  its  existence.  To  form 
a  "Society  of  Nations,"  let  there  be  no  mistake, 
is  to  form  all  society  into  one  immense  nation, 
in  which  each  would  find  its  place  and  keep  its 
independence,  while  combining  in  a  harmonious 
whole,  like  that  of  which  the  United  States 
afford  a  model. 

Of  this  conception  the  founders  of  America 
had  from  the  beginning  a  clear  vision.  Wash- 

1 J.  Fabre,  Washington,  p.  185. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    183 

ington  already  dreamed  of  the  United  States  of 
Europe.  But  they  were  too  practical  to  stop 
at  dreams,  or  to  forestall  the  time.  That  was  a 
future  stage,  and  it  was  theirs  to  accomplish 
the  present  stage — to  make  America  to-day  in 
order  that  America  might  to-morrow  make  the 
world.  They  constituted  a  national  type  in 
contrast  with  the  European  type,  a  union  and 
internation  over  against  disunion  and  opposing 
countries.  They  must  needs,  therefore,  detach 
themselves  from  Europe  and  systematically  ig 
nore  Europe,  shut  themselves  up  in  their  "splen 
did,"  or,  rather,  their  colossal,  "isolation." 
Thus  Washington  practised  the  prudent  policy 
of  "Every  one  in  his  own  place,"  and  conse 
quently  of  "Every  one  for  himself."  He  hailed 
the  French  Revolution  with  joy,  somewhat 
mingled  with  solicitude,  but  he  was  careful  not 
to  offer  to  it  any  sort  of  support,  or  an  equiva 
lent  for  that  which  Lafayette  had  brought  to 
his  country.  "I  have  always  thought  that  no 
nation  should  meddle  with  the  internal  affairs 
of  another  nation."  1  If  it  was  well  to  maintain 
and  develop  the  system  of  exchange  with  the 
Old  World,  at  least  agreements  should  not  go 
beyond  the  narrow  sphere  of  commercial  inter 
ests.  Keep  every  promise,  but  make  the  fewest 

1  J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  209. 


184        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

possible  promises,  was  the  principle.  "Meet 
your  obligations  to  the  letter,  but  it  is  my 
opinion  that  you  should  not  multiply  them."  1 
Hence  the  Monroe  Doctrine  was  not  slow  to 
establish  the  principle  that  since  European 
affairs  did  not  concern  America,  Europe,  by 
reciprocity,  should  refrain  from  concerning  her 
self  with  those  of  America. 

Do  we  find  here  a  refusal  to  enter  upon  the 
international  problem?  No,  in  the  sense  that 
the  Americans  had  solved  it  at  home  and  for 
themselves.  Yes,  in  this  other  sense  that  it 
was  not  yet  posited  in  terms  that  permitted  its 
successful  treatment.  There  were  two  worlds, 
separated  for  the  time  by  an  abyss  that  it  was 
impossible  to  bridge,  and  would  have  been 
untimely  to  try  to  bridge.  Their  interest  was 
to  live  on  good  terms,  and  the  best  thing  for 
this  was  for  neither  to  be  too  curious  about  the 
other.  Here,  again,  interest  coincides  with  jus 
tice,  as  always  is  the  case  in  America.  My  "in 
terest"  is  to  remain  in  my  home,  as  your  inter 
est  is  to  remain  in  yours;  "justice"  demands 
that  neither  of  us  shall  cause  the  other  any 
trouble,  that  there  shall  be  on  neither  part  any 
encroachment  upon  our  respective  liberties.  It 
is  for  each  people,  as  for  each  individual,  to 

1  Ib.,  p.  333. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    185 

regulate  his  destiny  by  himself  and  as  he  under 
stands  the  case. 

But  the  day  comes  when,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  interest  and  justice,  which  had  agreed 
upon  separation,  agree  to  work  toward  mutual 
approach.  The  policy  of  isolation  is  attractive, 
but,  especially  between  great  nations,  factitious. 
In  fact,  they  cannot  isolate  themselves.  The 
development  of  exchanges,  the  invasion  of  for 
eign  products,  the  influx  of  Asiatic  immigrants, 
the  unmeasured  ambition  of  Pan-Germanism, 
all  conspired  to  bring  into  the  foreground 
the  question  which  had  been  provisionally  set 
aside.  It  was  necessary  to  take  a  position  with 
regard  to  foreign  nations,  that  the  United  States 
should  adopt  a  foreign  policy.  What  policy  ? 

It  might,  strictly  speaking,  be  an  aggressive, 
offensive  policy,  such  as  that  to  which  Mr. 
Roosevelt  at  times  seemed  to  incline;  and  there 
are,  in  fact,  existing  germs  of  American  imperial 
ism.  The  war  with  Spain  was  not  popular  for 
simple  reasons  of  humanity,  and  by  touching 
certain  chords  it  would  be  not  impossible  to 
excite  to  a  greater  or  less  degree  chauvinistic 
passions.  But  it  would  surely  have  been  a 
flash  in  the  pan.  Before  America  could  become 
truly  militaristic  it  would  have  been  necessary 
to  create  a  new  spirit,  transform  the  soul  of  the 


186        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

race,  lead  into  new  paths,  upon  which  they 
would  be  loth  to  enter,  those  energies  and  that 
spirit  of  adventure  which  until  then  had  been 
occupied  in  peaceful  and  productive  works.  It 
would  be  necessary  to  break  with  American  tra 
dition,  with  the  spirit  of  the  Constitution,  with 
the  very  organization  of  the  country.  Such  a 
thing  is  not  impossible,  especially  in  this  nation, 
so  ardent,  so  mobile,  to  whom  the  attraction  of 
the  new  is  so  great,  in  which  the  love  of  inven 
tion  and  of  risk  combine  to  fascinate  the  mind. 
But  it  is  improbable,  and  the  event  has  proved 
that  it  was  not  to  be. 

Thanks  to  President  Wilson,  the  American 
and  not  the  European  solution  prevailed,  the 
legal  and  idealistic  solution.  The  United  States 
resolutely  chose  for  peace,  for  international 
peace,  for  the  peace  of  the  world.  But  this 
peace  must  be  made  actual,  and  it  was  to  this 
end  that  they  entered  the  war.  They  had 
never  been  more  profoundly  pacific  than  on  the 
day  when  they  declared  war.  But  to  attain 
their  object  they  must  do  double  duty — one 
immediate,  the  military  effort  that  would  con 
tribute  to  reduce  to  impotence  "the  enemy  of 
humanity";1  the  other  ulterior  and  decisive, 
properly  constituting  an  international  effort, 

1  President  Wilson's  Message  to  Congress,  April  2,  1917. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    187 

which  would  consist  in  organizing  the  world 
upon  the  type  of  the  United  States,  enlarging 
the  American  republic  into  a  universal  republic. 

II 

THE  ARMY  AND  WAR 

American  pacificism. — Non-existence  of  a  standing  army. — 
The  American  militia. — "Volunteers  of  Liberty." — Their 
military  and  their  civil  values. — The  American  army  an 
army  of  individuals. — War  and  peace. — War  is  cowardly, 
peace  is  courageous. — Refusal  of  wars  of  conquest. — All 
American  wars  have  been  wars  of  independence. 

America  entered  the  war  with  stern  resolu 
tion.  She  had  not  made  her  decision  without 
a  struggle,  not  merely  in  opposing  a  strongly 
organized  German  party,  lavishly  paid  by  Ger 
many,  but  in  doing  violence  to  her  own  prepos 
sessions,  and  to  those  that  were  most  legitimate, 
those  of  Puritans  profoundly  and  soundly  pacific 
whose  religious  and  moral  principles  opposed 
every  armed  conflict,  every  appeal  to  force. 
Even  in  the  President,  most  of  all  in  him,  the 
man  of  law  and  legality  if  ever  there  was  one, 
the  conflict  of  conscience  was  long  and  painful. 
But  from  the  day  when  the  decision  was  made 
it  was  irrevocable.  America  is  making  war 
with  all  her  soul  and  with  all  her  powers;  she  is 
fighting,  though  she  has  a  horror  of  militarism, 
and  because  she  has  a  horror  of  it.  She  is  fight- 


188        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

ing  to  destroy  militarism  in  time  and  in  space, 
always  and  everywhere. 

All  the  evidence  goes  to  prove  that  she  did 
not  will  war,  nor  this  war.  In  the  first  place, 
her  entrance  into  the  great  conflict,  though  long 
foreseen,  found  her  entirely  disarmed. 

America  has  never  consented  to  form  a  stand 
ing  army.  On  each  occasion  when  under  the 
compelling  power  of  facts  she  has  been  forced 
to  overcome  her  repugnance  and  appeal  to  the 
fortunes  of  arms,  she  has  addressed  herself 
directly  to  the  country.  As  soon  as  the  danger 
was  put  down  she  has  dismissed  her  troops. 
There  is  with  her  no  rivalry  between  the  civil 
and  the  military  power,  for  the  second  is  simply 
the  first  acquitting  itself  of  exceptional  func 
tions.  There  is  no  fear  of  a  pronunciamento ; 
her  first  and  greatest  general  was  the  most  loyal 
of  her  citizens,  and  he  gave  the  tone  to  all  the 
others.  "Never  shall  I  be  wanting  in  the 
higher  duty  which  I  have  to  perform  to  my 
country.  Never  shall  I  violate  the  respect  due 
to  the  civil  authority.  .  .  .  Never  shall  I  for 
get  that  the  sword  is  not  to  be  drawn  until  the 
last  moment,  to  defend  public  liberties,  and 
that  it  is  to  be  returned  to  the  scabbard  at  the 
first  moment  when  those  liberties  are  safe/'  1 

1 J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  30. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    189 

In  adopting  this  attitude  of  systematic  dis 
armament  the  United  States  took  full  account 
of  their  privileged  position.  They  had  no  fear 
of  danger  from  without.  On  the  north  their 
neighbor  is  Canada,  the  most  pacific  and  the 
most  civilized  colony  of  the  nation  that  most 
abhors  war.  On  the  south  lies  Mexico,  where 
the  hotter  Spanish  blood  contains  elements  of 
possible  insurrection;  but  the  country  is  weak, 
thinly  peopled,  divided  against  itself;  a  police 
force  is  sufficient  to  keep  the  Mexican  bands  in 
order,  an  army  would  be  useless.  The  need  of 
a  better  organized  defense  began  to  be  felt  only 
on  the  day  when  the  hand  of  a  foreign  power, 
scattering  gold  and  weapons,  sought  to  turn 
that  country  against  its  powerful  neighbor;  up 
to  that  time  it  could  pass  for  a  practically  negli 
gible  quantity.  Danger,  if  danger  there  was, 
would  be  found,  rather,  beyond  the  sea,  in  the 
Japan  of  to-day  or  the  China  of  to-morrow. 
At  the  worst  it  would  merely  require  the  crea 
tion  of  a  navy,  not  of  an  army.  And  though 
she  has  created  the  former,  America  has  always 
pursued  with  regard  to  these  powers  a  policy 
of  harmony.  The  United  States  have  no  need 
of  a  military  force. 

More  than  all,  they  have  no  desire  for  one. 
A  nation  of  working  men  cannot  be  a  nation 


190        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

of  soldiers.  The  working  man  needs  life  for 
work,  not  for  conquests.  Let  a  time  of  danger 
come,  he  will  exchange  his  tool  for  a  gun,  but 
simply  that  he  may  ward  off  the  aggressor  and 
return  the  more  quickly  to  his  work.  He  is 
suspicious  of  a  pretorian  guard  which,  under 
color  of  defending  his  liberties,  might  very  well 
some  day  confiscate  them.  No  sword,  were  it 
that  of  M.  Prudhomme,  made  to  protect  insti 
tutions,  and  in  case  of  need  to  oppose  them. 
If  at  times  a  wave  of  chauvinism  overspreads 
the  country,  one  may  be  sure  that  it  has  no 
depth,  and  will  spend  itself  in  foam.  Mr. 
Roosevelt's  popularity,  even  in  the  most  critical 
hours,  was  unable  to  overcome  this  invincible 
distrust.  His  thorough  defeat  when  he  pre 
sented  himself  as  candidate  for  the  presidency 
of  the  republic  had  no  other  cause.  In  vain 
did  he  exclaim,  "Peace  is  a  goddess  only  when 
she  comes  with  sword  girt  on  thigh"; 1  he  was 
not  able  to  induce  his  fellow  citizens  to  form  an 
army  after  the  type  of  those  of  Europe. 

The  American  army,  then,  will  be  only  a 
militia.  But  let  no  one  deceive  himself;  a 
militia  thus  motived  can  beat,  and  has  beaten, 
the  strongest  regular  armies.  They  proved  it 
in  the  War  of  Independence.  The  "shirtless" 

1  Roosevelt,  op.  cit.,  p.  249. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    191 

of  1778,  like  our  sansculottes  of  the  Year  II,  the 
"barefoot  and  coatless"1  soldiers,  under  the 
most  unfavorable  conditions,  worsted  the  thor 
oughly  equipped  English  troops,  who  were  abun 
dantly  provided  with  everything. 

It  was  because  the  soldiers  of  the  American 
Revolution,  like  our  own,  were  fighting  for  their 
own  cause: 

"La  liberte  sublime  emplissait  leurs  pensees." 

When  the  English  Government  spoke  slight 
ingly  of  them,  the  more  enlightened  Lord  Chat 
ham  did  them  justice  before  his  peers:  "Our 
ministers  affect  to  have  no  fear  of  inexperienced 
militia;  I  am  afraid  of  any  free  militia."  Lib 
erty  is  the  chief  strength  of  democratic  armies, 
for  they  recognize  no  discipline  but  that  of 
liberty.  And  Washington,  while  fully  admit 
ting  the  difficulties  of  his  enterprise,  had  no 
doubt  of  his  militia:  "The  militia  of  this  coun 
try  should  be  looked  upon  as  the  palladium  of 
our  safety,  and  the  first  guaranty  in  case  of 
hostility."2 

The  militia  are  citizen  soldiers,  those  whom 
Congress  called  "The  Volunteers  of  Freedom." 
Appearances  were  against  them,  and  they  still 

1 J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  233.  2  Ib.,  p.  264, 


192        THE  PEOPLE   OF  ACTION 

are.  De  Rousiers,  visiting  them,  remarked 
their  uncovered  throats,  the  negligence  of  their 
appearance,  their  defective  evolutions,  their 
absence  of  unity,  in  short,  all  the  outward  ap 
pearance  of  anarchy.  Yes,  but  with  all  the  in 
ward  marks  of  true  valor,  founded  on  the  au 
tonomy  of  the  fighter.  'The  man  taken  indi 
vidually  is  superior  to  the  soldier  that  we  know 
in  France."1  The  praise  is  not  small  if  we 
consider  that  the  French  soldier  is,  of  all  the 
soldiers  of  Europe,  the  most  individualized,  he 
whose  worth  as  a  man  is,  by  common  consent, 
the  most  strongly  developed. 

The  American  army,  like  the  people  from 
whom  it  proceeds,  is  the  product  of  liberty. 
The  qualities  that  it  will  soon  show  on  our 
battle-fields  are  diametrically  opposed  to  those 
which  characterize  the  German  army..  It  is 
not  a  question  of  the  shock  of  masses  of  which 
the  units  are  merged  and  lost  in  the  whole. 
Each  one,  on  the  contrary,  manifests  in  the 
field  his  powers  of  initiative  and  of  decision. 
As  everywhere  in  America,  unity  conies  from 
within,  from  below,  not  from  without  and  above. 
Order  spontaneously  creates  itself,  parties  or 
ganize  themselves  of  their  own  accord  as  a  whole, 
by  virtue  of  their  self-government.  An  army 

1  De  Rousiers,  op.  cit.,  p.  605. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    193 

of  individuals  normally  responds  to  this  nation 
of  individuals.  Each  one  knows  why  he  is 
fighting,  and  that  he  is  fighting  for  himself,  and 
thus  he  fights  by  himself. 

But  being  conscious  of  his  personality,  he  de 
mands  that  it  be  respected.  Thus  we  find  in 
him  an  American  trait  that  has  already  been 
more  than  once  noted:  he  furnishes  work,  he 
proposes  to  be  paid  its  just  price.  Not  that  we 
have  here  to  do  with  an  army  of  mercenaries 
living  only  for  their  wages;  it  is  exactly  the  op 
posite.  The  American  soldier  is  aware  of  what 
he  ought  to  do,  but  he  is  also  aware  of  what  is 
due  to  him.  It  is  always  the  sense  of  justice 
coinciding  with  that  of  interest:  service  for  ser 
vice,  give  and  take.  I  give  my  life  to  secure 
the  safety  and  the  labor  of  my  people ;  the  labor 
of  my  people,  fully  secured,  ought  largely  to 
better  my  condition.  "Only  good  pay  will 
induce  the  soldiers  to  remain  with  the  colors/'1 
said  Washington.  "Patriotism  must  be  rein 
forced  by  some  hope  of  recompense."2  Recom 
pense  is,  however,  not  the  word.  To  him  who 
does  not  count  the  cost  of  life,  the  cost  of  his 
wage  should  not  be  counted.  It  is  an  enlarge 
ment  of  the  British  conception.  The  shilling 
of  the  English  and  the  dollar  of  the  American 

1 J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  228.  2  /&.,  p.  231. 


194        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

soldier    proceed    from    the    same    fundamental 
concern  for  justice. 

Such  an  army  can  be  asked  to  fight  only  for 
a  just  cause.  The  American  has  no  fear  of  war, 
in  a  sense  he  should  love  it,  for  he  is  a  fighter 
through  and  through,  but  it  shocks  at  once  his 
practical  sense  and  his  conception  of  morality; 
he  deems  it  absurd,  and  he  holds  in  horror  the 
unavowable  reasons  which  generally  determine 
it,  and  the  barbarism  which  it  manifests.  He 
can  see  a  better  use  for  courage  and  energy 
than  that  which  consists  in  mutual  extermina 
tion. 

In  his  eyes  war  once  had  its  reasons  for  being, 
and  its  virtues;  it  has  them  no  longer.  It  is 
necessary  to  young  and  ignorant  peoples,  first 
as  a  means  of  procuring  resources,  and  then  be 
cause  it  virilizes  them,  forms  their  minds,  their 
hearts,  their  consciences.  "It  is  a  temporary 
and  preparatory  state  and  does  actively  for 
ward  the  culture  of  man."  l  It  is  the  primitive 
and  rudimentary  expression  of  a  very  sound  and 
profoundly  American  principle:  "Help  yourself; 
don't  look  to  another  for  help."  The  principle 
to-day  simply  finds  other  modes  of  application, 
higher  and  more  fruitful.  Our  energies  have 

1  Emerson,  Miscellanies:  War. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    195 

found  another  field,  and  give  their  best  results 
in  works  of  peace. 

For  to  the  American  peace  is  nothing  less  than 
soft  and  anaemic.  It  consists  in  the  exercise  of 
powers  and  not  in  a  display  of  pleasures.  Pitts 
burgh  and  Philadelphia  are  not  Suburrha  or 
Capua.  Peace  should  be  the  work  of  the  strong; 
peace  is  the  war  of  man  against  the  forces  of 
nature,  not  the  war  of  man  against  man.  It  is 
invention,  not  destructive  daring.  It  is  not  the 
heroic  effort  of  a  strenuous  and  exceptional  mo 
ment  in  which  all  the  powers  of  life  gather  them 
selves  together  to  conquer  or  die.  It  is  continual, 
incessant,  ever-recurring  effort,  the  prolonged 
labor  of  the  factory  or  the  laboratory,  the 
heroism  of  the  "toilers,"  whom  President  Wil 
son  eulogizes.  "The  cause  of  peace  is  not  the 
cause  of  cowardice."1 

We  might  go  even  further.  The  cause  of 
cowardice  is  the  cause  of  war;  not  of  those 
who  wage  it,  but  of  those  who  let  it  loose  and 
cause  others  to  wage  it.  In  their  eyes  war  is 
a  brief  and  violent  effort,  the  effort  of  a  moment, 
which  is  expected  to  exempt  the  victor  from  all 
future  trouble.  War  is  indolence,  the  desire  to 
live  at  the  expense  of  others,  to  take  possession 
of  and  enjoy  wealth  acquired  by  others,  in- 


196        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

stead  of  creating  new  wealth  by  his  daily  toil. 
It  is  an  attempt  to  reduce  the  world  to  slavery, 
to  force  vanquished  peoples  to  play  the  part  of 
the  galley-slave,  who,  under  the  threat  of  the 
lash,  or  before  the  open  throat  of  cannon,  sweat 
blood  and  water  to  make  the  wealth  of  their 
oppressors.  Let  us  not  forget  that  Germany, 
when  letting  loose  this  cataclysm  upon  the 
world,  anticipated  a  rapid  and  decisive  cam 
paign  of  a  few  weeks  or,  at  most,  a  few  months, 
and  that  she  induced  her  men  to  march  by  the 
promise  of  a  share  in  the  booty,  the  spolia 
opima  of  the  conquered.  She  set  forth  for  "the 
fresh  and  joyful  war,"  moved  by  the  desire  of 
an  easy  and  an  idle  life.  The  United  States, 
with  their  love  of  activity  and  a  rugged  life, 
can  have  only  thorough  contempt  for  so  de 
grading  a  conception. 

In  principle,  therefore,  America  recoils  from 
war.  But  in  fact,  when  she  sees  in  it  the  sine 
qua  non  of  peace,  she  throws  herself  into  it 
body  and  soul.  She  can  fight  when  it  is  neces 
sary.  And  when  is  it  necessary  ?  When  liberty 
is  at  stake — her  own  liberty  or  that  of  the  world. 
She  refuses  wars  of  conquest;  with  all  her 
power  she  upholds  wars  of  liberation. 

She  refuses  wars  of  conquest.     Conquest  is 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    197 

imbecile  and  vain.  Wills  cannot  be  annexed. 
"In  no  case  do  we  desire  territorial  possessions 
which  do  not  directly  form  one  body  with  our 
national  domain,  and  we  nowhere  desire  a 
domain  acquired  by  criminal  aggression."1  In 
fact,  America  has  never  sought  extension  ex 
cept  as  a  result  of  covenanted  agreements.  A 
man  becomes  an  American  by  his  free  will  and 
choice;  he  does  not  become  one  by  constraint. 

But  America  upholds  wars  of  liberation. 
Every  war  which  she  has  undertaken  has  been 
in  her  mind  a  war  of  independence,  even  those 
which  a  European  would  be  inclined  to  look 
upon  with  a  different  eye.  The  American  "is 
not  a  hypocrite  when  he  maintains  that  he 
went  to  Cuba  in  the  interest  of  the  Cubans,  or 
occupied  Panama  as  the  'attorney  of  human- 
ity.'"2 

In  any  case,  even  if  one  may  argue  the  correct 
ness  of  this  character  with  regard  to  an  expedi 
tion  like  that  to  the  Philippines,  it  is  evidently 
clear  when  one  contemplates  the  three  "great 
wars"  undertaken  by  the  young  republic:  the 
War  of  Independence,  the  War  of  Secession,  and 
lastly,  its  present  participation  in  the  World 
War. 

1  President  Harrison,  quoted  in  Les  fitats-Unu  et  la  France.    Address 
by  Morton  Fullerton,  p.  195. 

2  76.,  p.  188. 


198        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

The  war  against  England  was  the  uprising 
of  the  national  conscience,  the  protest  of  Right 
against  Might.  America  was  constrained  to 
fight;  she  accepted  but  did  not  provoke  war. 
She  had  but  one  aim  in  view:  to  enfranchise 
herself,  not  to  dominate.'  "Compelled  to  take 
up  arms,  we  are  dreaming  neither  of  glory  nor 
conquest,  but  we  will  defend,  even  to  death,  our 
possessions  and  our  liberties,  inherited  from 
our  fathers."1  Notwithstanding  appearances, 
the  United  States  did  not  declare  war.  They 
endured  it,  for  the  oppression  of  one  people  by 
another  constitutes  a  state  of  war,  a  permanent 
war.  The  English  did  not  deceive  themselves 
in  the  matter.  Fox  and  his  friends  called  the 
American  cause  "the  cause  of  liberty."2  At  the 
head  of  the  movement  whom  do  we  find? 
Generals?  No,  lawyers.  ;<The  revolutionary 
tocsin  was  sounded  by  lawyers."3  The  head 
of  the  army  was  before  the  war  a  surveyor  and 
a  wealthy  landed  proprietor.  A  new  Cincin- 
natus,  his  dreams  were  all  of  returning  to  till 
his  fields;  he  was  the  most  fervent  advocate  of 
peace  and  disarmament.  In  his  farewell  ad 
dress  to  his  army  he  gave  "his  most  affection 
ate  greetings  to  the  brave  men  who  have  assured 

1 J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  16.  2  J.  Fabre,  op.  cit.,  p.  16. 

3  Lavisse  et  Rambaud,  Histoire  generate,  VII,  536. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    199 

to  their  fellow  citizens  the  enjoyment  of  the 
most  precious  blessings,  liberty  and  peace"1 
In  its  motives,  its  spirit,  its  results,  the  War 
of  Independence  was  eminently  a  war  of 
peace. 

Not  less  so  was  the  War  of  Secession.  We 
have  not  space  here  to  discuss  the  very  power 
ful  economic  interests  that  divided  the  liberal 
North  from  the  slaveholding  South,  but  we 
must  not  lose  sight  of  the  guiding  thread  of  all 
American  politics,  that  is  to  say,  that  it  always 
finds  its  true  interest  on  the  side  of  justice,  never 
on  the  side  of  violence.  When  we  analyze  the 
concept  of  justice  we  find  it  is  in  fact  nothing 
other  than  a  reconciliation,  and  consequently 
an  inclusion  of  legitimate  interests.  It  wills 
liberty  for  all  and  not  for  the  few.  It  would 
have  been  unthinkable  that  an  America  en 
franchised  from  foreign  domination  should  per 
mit  and  perpetuate  at  home  a  system  of  in 
ternal  domination.  She  owed  it  to  herself  to 
uproot  the  last  vestiges  of  oppression  from  her 
soil.  "No  more  slave  States  and  no  more  slave 
territory,"  was  the  watchword.  If  the  States 
desired  to  be  upon  a  footing  of  equality  in  their 
mutual  relations,  it  was  first  of  all  necessary 
that  there  should  be  no  caste  among  them,  no 

1  J.  Fabre,  op.  cit. 


200        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

subjects,  but  simply  citizens  enjoying  the  same 
rights.  The  maintenance  of  slavery  upon  any 
part  of  her  territory  would  have  brought  about 
the  dissolution  of  the  Union:  secession.  This 
idea  was  expressed  by  Hale  when  offering  him 
self  as  candidate  for  the  presidency:  "Slavery 
is  sectional,  liberty  is  national;  the  general 
government  should  separate  itself  from  slavery 
and  exercise  its  constitutional  influence  on  the 
side  of  liberty."  Either  America  is  a  democracy 
or  there  is  no  America. 

Now,  it  is  precisely  in  the  same  terms  that 
the  question,  enlarged  but  identical,  is  to-day 
possible  for  her  and  for  the  world.  Germany 
does  not  fear  America  strong,  but  America  free. 
She  would  perfectly  well  have  come  to  terms 
with  an  American  autocracy,  with  an  American 
czarism,  if  the  expression  were  not  a  contradic 
tion  in  terms.  She  would  easily  have  con 
cluded  a  holy  alliance,  or,  if  you  please,  a  cartel, 
a  sharing  of  world-domination  with  an  empire 
overseas.  She  would  thus  have  carried  out 
her  vast  plan  of  universal  subjugation.  But 
she  could  not,  without  disowning  herself,  toler 
ate  a  great  centre  of  independence  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Atlantic.  If  she  had  carried  out  her 
plan  of  European  hegemony,  we  should  soon 
have  witnessed  a  formidable  clash  between 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    201 

two  continents,  the  Old  Continent  a  serfdom, 
the  New  Continent  free. 

America  warded  off  the  blow  by  anticipating 
it.  It  was  she  who  could  not  tolerate  the  con 
stitution  of  a  predatory  empire  making  all 
Europe  and  at  least  a  part  of  Asia  the  soldier  of 
the  Kaiser.  Therefore  she  must  lead  Germany 
to  liberty  in  spite  of  herself  as  she  had  led  the 
Southern  States  thither  during  the  War  of 
Secession.  For  this  is  indubitably  her  aim: 
to  save  the  world  from  tyranny  by  enfranchising 
the  tyrant  himself. 

She  remained,  then,  faithful  to  her  origin,  to 
her  past  as  liberator,  to  her  ideal  of  peace 
through  right,  when  she  went  into  the  war  "up 
to  her  ears."  We  must  say  more:  on  the  day 
when  she  took  her  place  beside  the  Allied  Powers 
she  gave  to  the  present  war  its  true  character 
as  a  democratic  war,  cleansed  of  every  disturb 
ing  element,  every  secret  mental  reservation  of 
territorial  expansion.  And  by  this  fact  the 
United  States  dominates  the  present  conflict. 
It  represents  the  only  Power  that  can  be  at 
the  same  time  judge  and  client,  and  remain  the 
arbiter  even  in  the  form  of  a  combatant. 


202        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

III 

UNIVERSAL  PEACE  AND  THE   "SOCIETY  OF 
NATIONS" 

The  nations  considered  as  moral  persons. — Autocracies  and 
democracies. — The  German  Empire  and  its  allies  "enemies 
of  humanity." — Intervention  of  America  in  the  World  War. 
— She  represents  "the  future  of  humanity." — Emerson's 
"Declaration  of  Human  Duties." — President  Wilson's 
policy. — 1.  The  installation  of  Right — Peace  "without 
annexations  and  indemnities,"  but  with  "readjustments" 
and  "reparations."— 2.  The  "Society  of  Nations."— Inter 
national  justice  and  world  union. — The  United  States  and 
"international  duty." — The  world  made  free. — The  Ameri 
can  ideal  and  the  French  ideal. 

In  what  then  consists  the  active  internation 
alism  of  the  United  States?  In  extending  to 
relations  between  nations  the  legal  principles 
that  regulate  relations  between  individuals. 
Public  international  law  should  be  faithfully 
modelled  upon  private  national  law. 

What  says  this  latter?  It  sets  out  from  a 
fact  the  existence  of  human  individuals,  and  it 
duplicates  it  with  a  law,  that  of  human  persons. 
The  person  has  a  twofold  existence:  natural  and 
legal.  If  he  had  only  the  first  he  would  be  re 
duced  to  the  condition  of  a  thing,  might,  like 
other  creations  of  nature,  be  the  object  of  ag 
gression  and  appropriation  by  the  strong.  The 
law  invests  him  with  an  ideal  power  which 
shelters  him  from  the  encroachments  of  force. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    203 

Now  that  which  is  true  of  human  individuals 
is  not  yet  true  of  human  groups.  They  have 
the  precarious  existence  of  fact,  they  have  not 
the  uncontested  legal  personality  which  guar 
antees  them  against  usurpation.  There  is  a 
morality  for  men;  there  is  none  for  peoples. 

Now  it  is  necessary  that  there  should  be  such 
a  morality,  and  America  insists  that  the  legal 
personality  of  nations  be  recognized  and  guar 
anteed.  "America  affirms  before  all  else  the 
rights  of  individuals  and  the  rights  of  existing 
states"  1 

Whence  comes  it  that,  in  fact,  this  right  is 
denied  ?  From  this :  that  too  many  nations  do 
not  yet  belong  to  themselves.  How  shall  they 
mutually  respect  one  another  when  they  cannot 
personally  respect  even  themselves?  The  sole, 
but  formidable,  obstacle  to  the  "Society  of  Na 
tions"  is  the  persistence  of  autocracies.  Be 
tween  democracies,  free  persons,  agreement  is 
natural  and  necessary.  Between  rival  autoc 
racies  it  is  difficult.  Between  autocracies  and 
democracies  it  is  impossible.  This  will  kill 
that  or  that  will  exterminate  this.  One  of  the 
two  forms  must  necessarily  succumb  to  the 
other. 

There  is,  therefore,  only  one  remedy  for  war: 

1  Les  tltats-Unis  et  la  France.     Boutroux  Address,  p.  12. 


204        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

uproot  the  autocracies.  It  is  absurd  to  claim 
that  war  must  be  eternal;  it  will  disappear  when 
its  cause  is  made  to  disappear.  The  cause  is 
known,  brought  into  the  light;  it  is  absolutism, 
the  sic  volo,  sic  jubeo,  sit  pro  ratione  voluntas. 
It  is  the  domination  of  a  man  over  a  people 
which  leads  to  the  domination  of  one  people 
over  another.  Then  let  us  put  down  the  man, 
that  we  may  "  eliminate  this  element  of  arbi 
trary  force  and  compulsion,  and  replace  it  by 
law,  equal  for  all."  * 

Let  us  study  the  map  of  the  world  and  define 
the  respective  situations  of  the  peoples  before 
us.  They  are  naturally  divided  into  two  groups: 
those  that  do  not  belong  to  themselves,  and 
those  who  belong  to  themselves,  or  tend  to  do 
so.  Their  respective  functions  are  clear,  re 
sulting  from  their  nature;  the  first  will  tend  to 
dominate  and  hold  in  servitude  the  second; 
the  second  to  liberate  the  first  by  enfranchising 
themselves.  There  can  be  no  other  politics. 
The  first  duty  for  the  world  is  to  beat  the  Ger 
man  army,  to  conquer  that  Prussia  which  is  an 
army  and  not  a  nation.  But  it  is  still  more 
important  so  to  act  that  there  shall  no  longer 
be  a  nation  transformed  into  an  army,  or  sup 
pressed  to  give  place  to  an  army.  "We  have 

1  Ib.,  p.  204.     Address  by  Mr.  David  Jayne  Hill. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    205 

no  quarrel  with  the  German  people,"1  the  Ger 
man  people  are  their  own  enemy. 

Let  us  consider  the  first  group.  It  represents 
the  enemy  of  the  right,  the  enemy  of  democ 
racies,  "the  enemy  of  humanity."  In  the  per 
son  of  the  Kaiser,  Germany  marvellously  sym 
bolizes  it,  but  in  varying  degrees  all  the  other 
Powers  allied  with  Germany  offer  the  same  char 
acter.  Autocratic  and  dynastic  is  the  Austria 
of  the  Hapsburgs;  autocratic  and  dynastic  the 
Bulgaria  of  "Czar"  Ferdinand;  autocratic  and 
dynastic  the  Turkey  of  Enver  Pasha.  These 
nations  of  necessity  form  a  block.  And  if 
czarist  Russia,  with  its  Sturmers  and  its  Pro- 
topapoffs,  who  betray  their  allies,  did  not  enter 
this  Holy  Alliance  of  Kings  against  peoples,  it 
is  because  in  its  inner  essence,  as  President 
Wilson  has  well  shown,  the  true  Russia,  the 
deeper  Russia,  was  democratic.  The  sudden 
and  definitive  collapse  of  czarism,  which  not 
one  party  arose  to  defend,  not  one  voice  up 
holds,  proves  to  what  a  point  the  power  of  this 
colossus  with  feet  of  clay  was  at  once  formidable 
and  precarious. 

The  world  struggle  is,  therefore,  concentrated 
upon  the  group,  united  at  once  geographically 
and  politically,  of  the  central  Powers  of  Mittel- 

1  President  Wilson,  Message  to  Congress,  April  2,  1917. 


206        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Europa,  encircled  on  all  sides  by  the  democ 
racies  that  surround  it.  It  can  remain  what  it 
is  only  by  oppression  first,  and  then  by  the 
total  eviction  and  suppression  of  the  free  peo 
ples.  We  have  seen  that  its  policy  in  Serbia, 
in  Armenia,  is  a  policy  of  extermination;  the 
systematic  butchering  of  the  population,  or  at 
the  very  least  the  creation  of  such  conditions  of 
existence  that  they  are  reduced  to  death  by 
famine,  or  to  a  physiological  exhaustion  so 
profound  that  it  menaces  the  race  through  the 
individual.  With  hardly  more  hypocrisy,  this 
is  the  method  applied  by  Germany  to  the  in 
vaded  regions  of  Belgium  and  France,  and  by 
the  method  of  wholesale  deportations  the 
guillotine  pines  for  the  deported.  Kill  or  re 
duce  to  servitude,  kill  in  order  to  reduce  to 
servitude,  this  is  the  programme  whose  real 
ization  she  pursues  coldly  and  methodically. 
Her  object  is  the  total  subjection  of  humanity. 
Not  less  reasonably  the  contrary  formula  should 
be,  and  has  been,  that  of  America:  what  she 
pursues  is  the  integral  realization  of  humanity. 
Stripped  of  its  military,  diplomatic,  political,  and 
social  details,  which  are  only  its  visible  incidents, 
the  present  struggle  reveals,  therefore,  this  start- 
lingly  tragic  character:  Shall  there  be  a  humanity, 
or  shall  humanity  disappear  from  the  world  ? 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    207 

It  will  be  the  imperishable  honor  of  the 
United  States  that  even  before  taking  action 
she  understood,  and  she  willed.  Farther  re 
moved  from  the  scene  of  carnage,  less  directly 
affected  by  events,  this  great  nation  did  not 
immediately  grasp  the  meaning  of  the  conflict. 
It  held  it  a  point  of  honor  to  be  neutral;  but 
the  day  came  when  it  understood  that  neu 
trality  in  the  face  of  crime  is  dishonoring, 
dangerous,  and  impossible.  First  it  protested, 
and  protested  in  the  name  of  the  Right  and  of 
humanity.  For  a  time  Germany  appeared  to 
hesitate,  to  draw  back;  she  suspended  her 
operations  of  submarine  warfare.  The  United 
States  waited  and  hoped.  For  a  moment  they 
thought  that  peace  was  possible,  a  just  peace, 
respectful  of  law,  and  they  asked  the  belliger 
ents  to  state  precisely  their  objects  in  this  war. 
The  democracies  replied;  the  autocracies  kept 
silence.  Finally  Tartuffe  threw  off  the  mask. 
Feeling  himself  to  be  lost  if  he  did  not  go  to 
the  uttermost  extent  of  crime,  he  resumed  and 
multiplied  his  submarine  activity.  At  this 
moment,  attacked  in  her  interests  and  in  her 
rights,  menaced  as  a  nation  and  as  a  human 
person,  America,  by  the  voice  of  her  President, 
took  sides  and  pronounced  her  verdict,  condemn 
ing,  not  Germany,  but  German  autocracy. 


£08        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

She  said:  The  world  shall  be,  and  shall  be 
to  the  full.  All  nations  have  the  right  to  exist 
ence,  the  small  as  well  as  the  great,  those  which 
are  no  more  or  those  which  are  not  yet,  as  well 
as  those  now  existing.  There  shall  be  a  Bel 
gium,  there  shall  be  a  Serbia,  there  shall  be  a 
Poland.  There  shall  even  be  a  Germany, 
where  there  no  longer  is  one.  But  there  can 
only  be  a  Germany  and  a  world  on  the  day 
when  there  is  no  longer  a  German  Emperor. 

Let  no  one  object  that  in  acting  thus  America 
acts  contrary  to  her  traditional  policy,  to  the 
policy  of  Washington,  of  Monroe,  that  she  med 
dles  unduly  in  the  affairs  of  other  peoples.  She 
will  reply:  Where  there  is  despotism  there  is 
not  a  people.  To  do  away  with  the  despot  is 
to  call  the  people  into  existence;  it  is  to  permit 
other  nations  to  live,  by  making  a  place  for 
them  in  the  concert  of  all  the  nations.  The 
United  States  are  working  for  Germany  against 
herself. 

But  to  be  able  thus  to  speak,  and  to  carry 
affirmations  to  acts,  one  must  enjoy  a  privileged 
position.  One  must  be  in  the  right,  must  have 
might  at  the  service  of  the  right,  must  be  will 
ing  to  set  an  example.  America  is  all  this. 
She  is  the  living  image  of  the  Right,  not  of  a 
platonic  Right  stated  in  declarations  of  prin- 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    209 

ciples,  but  of  the  Right  practically  written  into 
acts;  she  needs  only  to  say  to  the  fighting  peo 
ples:  "Look  at  me!"  She  is  Might  placed,  or 
capable  of  being  placed,  at  the  service  of  Right, 
virtual  but  inexhaustible  Might,  a  hundred 
millions  of  men,  of  whom  she  may  mobilize  ten 
millions;  the  most  formidably  equipped  indus 
tries  in  the  world,  a  power  of  work  and  produc 
tion  dizzying  to  imagine.  She  dominates  the 
belligerents  because  she  is  not  directly  inter 
ested  in  the  struggle;  that  is  to  say,  because  she 
has  no  claims  of  any  kind  to  push.  What  does 
she  ask  for?  Nothing!  She  has  no  war  aims; 
her  aims  are  those  of  peace. 

She  stands  then  apart,  and  even  when  she 
intervenes  she  is  truly  "above  the  fray."  Long 
ago,  indeed,  one  may  say  at  her  very  birth,  she 
had  a  presentiment  of  the  part  which  she  would 
one  day  be  called  to  play.  Washington  wrote 
to  Lafayette  that  he  considered  himself  a  "citi 
zen  of  the  great  republic  of  humanity,"  l  add 
ing:  "I  see  the  human  race  a  great  family, 
united  by  fraternal  bonds." 2  Elsewhere  he 
wrote  prophetically:  "We  have  sown  a  seed  of 
liberty  and  union  that  will  gradually  germinate 
throughout  the  earth.  Some  day,  on  the  model 
of  the  United  States  of  America,  will  be  consti- 

1 J.  Fabre,  op.  tit.,  p.  185.  2  /&.,  p.  185. 


210        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

tuted  the  United  States  of  Europe."1  During  her 
development  the  American  nation  has  become 
more  and  more  conscious  of  her  world  mission. 
Emerson  saw  in  her  a  people  marked  out  to 
preside  at  the  universal  enfranchisement:  In 
some  period  one  country  represents  more  than 
others  the  sentiments  and  the  future  of  humanity. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  America  occupies  this 
place  in  the  minds  of  the  nations.2  It  belongs 
to  her  to  be  the  legislator  for  all  nationalities.3 
And  finally,  announcing  in  advance  the  very 
aim  of  President  Wilson's  efforts,  he  said  of  the 
United  States:  They  now  proceed  to  the  elab 
oration,  not  of  the  Declaration  of  Rights,  but 
of  the  Declaration  of  human  duties.4 

The  striking  relief  in  which  such  statements 
stand  out  appears  in  the  reading  of  President 
Wilson's  messages  and  communications.  With 
the  firmness  of  their  precise  and  cold  legal  ac 
cents,  they  are  the  perfect  application  of  the 
ideas  of  Washington  and  Emerson,  the  concrete 
affirmation  of  their  idealistic  utterances. 

Neutrality  is  the  law  between  nations  as  it  is, 
we  must  observe,  between  individuals;  it  ex 
presses  respect  for  the  private  wall  of  national 
life.  But  it  cannot  exist  when  there  are  no 
nations,  when  one  is  confronted  with  "auto- 

1  Ib.,  p.  113.  2  Emerson,  Essays.  » Ib.  *  Ib.,  p.  290. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL 

cratic  governments  backed  by  organized  force 
which  is  controlled  wholly  by  their  will,  not  by 
the  will  of  their  people."  1  It  is  these  govern 
ments,  and  they  alone,  that  must  be  brought 
to  trial.  "We  are  at  the  beginning  of  an  age 
in  which  it  will  be  insisted  that  the  same  stand 
ards  of  conduct  and  of  responsibility  for  wrong 
done  shall  be  observed  among  nations  and  their 
governments  that  are  observed  among  the  indi 
vidual  citizens  of  civilized  states."2  If  they  are 
dangerous  they  must  be  reduced  to  impotence; 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  case  under  consideration, 
put  down;  if  they  are  guilty  they  must  be  tried 
and  condemned,  not  only  by  the  purely  moral 
verdict  of  the  universal  conscience,  but  with 
the  just  rigor  of  the  law.  It  is  a  question  of 
precise,  positive  consent  to  crimes  of  common 
law,  committed  against  the  human  race  "in 
the  interest  of  a  dynasty  and  a  little  group  of 
ambitious  men."  3  The  penalties  are  provided 
by  the  codes;  they  must  be  applied.  Dynasties 
will  be  overturned,  criminal  ambitions  pun 
ished,  and  it  will  be  just. 

In  his  recent  reply  to  the  appeal  of  the  Vati 
can  for  a  more  or  less  limping  peace,  President 
Wilson  defined  the  position  of  the  United  States 

1  President  Wilson,  Message  to  Congress,  April  2,  1917. 
3  76.  »  Ib. 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

more  clearly  and  strongly  than  ever.  After 
having  stigmatized  the  crimes  of  "the  enemy 
of  four-fifths  of  the  world,"1  he  declared  with 
out  mincing  matters  that  no  peace  is  possible 
with  "an  irresponsible  government,  which,  hav 
ing  secretly  planned  to  dominate  the  world," 
had  not  shrunk  from  carrying  its  plans  into 
effect  without  respecting  treaties  or  principles, 
long  venerated  by  civilized  nations,  of  inter 
national  law  and  honor.2  It  is  a  government 
without  faith  or  law,  a  government  of  "scraps 
of  paper,"  whose  word  and  signature  count  for 
nothing,  a  government  with  regard  to  which 
the  impartiality  which  men  would  fain  keep  is 
either  lack  of  comprehension  or  complicity. 
One  no  longer  treats  with  a  Hohenzollern. 

What  a  difference  between  these  clear  and 
cutting  statements  and  the  prudent,  measured, 
equivocal  formulas  of  the  pontifical  note  !  Read 
ing  the  proposals  of  Benedict  XV,  one  cannot 
prevent  the  secret  suspicion  that  they  conceal 
a  snare  laid  before  democracies  by  Austro-Ger- 
manic  autocracy.  Voluntarily  or  not,  it  would 
seem  as  if  they  were  inspired  by  some  una- 
vowed  desire  to  reconstruct  the  Holy  Roman- 
Germanic  Empire  at  the  expense  of  free  peoples. 
Their  accent  is  rather  political  than  religious. 

1  Reply  of  President  Wilson  to  the  Pope.  2  76. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    213 

On  the  contrary,  we  hear  an  accent,  if  not 
purely  religious,  at  least  inspired  by  that  Puri 
tan  morality  so  near  a  neighbor  to  the  Chris 
tian  religion,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of 
Mr.  Wilson's  reply.  These  are  not  the  words 
of  a  politician,  safeguarding  interests,  negotiat 
ing  a  compromise;  they  are  those  of  a  judge 
pronouncing  sentence.  They  show  a  true  im 
partiality,  that  which  pronounces  against  a 
felony,  and  not  that  which  compounds  with  it. 
Not  for  the  first  time  words  have  been  uttered 
from  the  White  House  which  the  world  expected 
to  hear  from  the  lips  of  the  head  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  To  the  "reasons  of  the  Holy  Father," 
by  far  too  exclusively  temporal,  the  successor 
and  worthy  emulator  of  Washington  has  replied 
with  the  spiritual  reasons  of  the  righteous  man. 

America  will  then  pursue  the  accomplishment 
of  two  duties:  one,  more  immediate,  the  resto 
ration  of  the  violated  order;  the  other,  more 
distant,  the  organization  of  a  legal  international 
order,  which  will  never  again  permit  such 
crimes. 

The  first  object  should  be  clearly  defined, 
without  ambiguity  and  without  passion,  but 
also  without  weakness:  "Our  motive  will  not 
be  revenge  or  the  victorious  assertion  of  the 


214        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

physical  might  of  the  nation,  but  only  the  vin 
dication  of  right,  of  human  right,  of  which  we 
are  only  a  single  champion."  x  The  victory  of 
the  Allies  will  be  the  victory  of  civilization;  it 
should  then  be  the  patient  and  complete  reali 
zation  of  the  Right,  not  the  rude  affirmation  of 
the  fact. 

Realization,  not  restoration,  for  what  would 
be  restored  would  be  precisely  the  injustice 
which  has  weighed  upon  the  world.  Certainly 
one  would  not  set  over  against  a  policy  of  an 
nexations  a  policy  of  conquest;  all  desires  of 
territorial  ambition,  whencesoever  they  may 
arise,  will  be  bridled.  The  rights  of  peoples 
will  be  respected.  But  neither  will  any  one  be 
duped  again  by  the  artless  formula,  Peace  with 
out  annexations  and  indemnities.  A  return  to 
the  ante-bellum  status,  the  status  whence  arose 
"  iniquitous  war,"  would  consolidate  instead 
of  killing  despotism.  We  ought  not  to  consider 
remedies  merely  because  they  have  a  pleasing 
and  sonorous  sound.3 

Peace  without  annexation,  that  is  a  matter 
of  course,  but  on  condition  that  we  reconsider 
all  annexations  sanctioned  by  the  old  order.  In 
this  case  the  formula,  when  analyzed,  signifies 

1  President  Wilson,  Message  to  Congress,  April  2,  1917. 

2  President  Wilson,  Note  to  Russia  Stating  War  Aims.  8  76. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    215 

the  redrawing  of  the  map  of  Europe  and  of  the 
world  to  the  end  that  there  may  be  no  nation 
under  subjection  against  its  explicitly  asserted 
will.  This  supposes  that  certain  matters  must 
be  readjusted  in  some  efficacious  way.  But 
this  "readjustment"  is  not  to  be  made  in  accor 
dance  with  the  political  convenience  of  the  vic 
tor,  is  not  to  be  based  upon  strategic  considera 
tions.  It  will  be  based  upon  "very  evident 
principles,"  1  and  not  upon  interests,  however 
apparently  legitimate.  These  principles  are 
"that  no  people  must  be  forced  under  a  sov 
ereignty  under  which  it  does  not  wish  to  live; 
no  territory  must  change  hands,  except  for  the 
purpose  of  securing  those  who  inhabit  it  a  fair 
chance  of  life  and  liberty."2  The  realistic  Ameri 
can  conception  rests  upon  the  fact,  "Existing 
States,"  and  the  presumption  that  the  fact  is 
in  conformity  with  Right.  But  this  presump 
tion  may  be  argued  and  overturned;  it  does  not 
hold  against  solemnly  announced  historic  claims, 
against  collective  protests  many  times  renewed. 
Above  all,  it  cannot  prevail  against  the  possi 
bilities  of  national  resurrection  and  rehabilita 
tion. 

"Peace  without  indemnity":  again,  so  be  it, 
if  the  word  is  understood  in  its  rigid  sense  of 


216        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

war  indemnity,  and  if  each  nation  is  left  to  bear 
the  burden  of  the  debt  which  she  contracted 
under  this  head.  In  strict  justice,  to  be  sure, 
those  who  were  dragged  into  the  struggle  against 
their  will  should  be  indemnified  by  the  aggressor 
for  their  losses.  But,  perhaps,  all  things  con 
sidered,  it  would  not  be  a  bad  thing  that  the 
weight  of  this  frightful  burden  should  be  felt 
for  a  time,  for  a  long  time,  by  those  who  par 
ticipated  in  this  world  cataclysm;  perhaps  it 
would  be  a  salutary  warning  to  too  forgetful 
humanity,  and  to  generations  to  come;  perhaps 
indeed  it  would  be  well  that  every  one  should 
clearly  understand  that  victories  of  the  Right 
are  costly,  and  when  they  result  in  the  libera 
tion  of  the  world  are  never  paid  too  dear.  Then, 
accepting  the  worst,  let  there  be  no  war  indem 
nity,  and  may  the  general  impoverishment  upon 
which,  on  their  own  account,  the  Ajnericans  are 
ready  to  congratulate  themselves,  be  the  great 
lesson  of  this  general  conflagration.  Let  us  re 
build  the  world,  since  it  has  been  destroyed; 
let  us  reconstruct  wealth,  since  it  has  been  dis 
sipated. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  President  Wilson  in 
sists   upon   reparation   and   every  reparation— 
"payment  for  manifest  wrongs  done."  1    Is  not 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    217 

this  the  fundamental  principle  of  private  rights  ? 
Is  it  not  the  application  of  the  elementary  prin 
ciple  laid  down  in  Article  1382  of  our  Civil 
Code,  the  one  to  which  appeal  is  most  fre 
quently  made?  "Every  act  of  man  which 
works  damage  to  another,  obliges  him  to  repair 
it  by  whose  fault  it  has  been  done."  And  it  is 
not  a  question  of  any  sort  of  act;  the  acts  are 
explicitly  described,  acts  of  theft,  rapine,  or 
pillage,  done  in  cold  blood,  with  premeditation, 
with  systematic  and  deliberate  method  of  de 
struction  and  devastation.  It  is  not  acts  of 
war  which  are  under  consideration,  but  perse 
vering  efforts  to  ruin  a  people,  to  attack,  not 
armies  in  their  fighting  strength,  but  nations  at 
the  fountainhead  of  their  life.  Not  to  repair 
damages  such  as  these,  not  to  repair  them  en 
tirely,  would  be  to  legitimatize  and  foster  crime. 
No,  at  least  there  must  be  restitution,  firesides 
rebuilt  for  those  whose  roofs  have  been  de 
stroyed,  means  of  labor,  workshops,  farms, 
machines,  and  tools  restored  to  those  who  have 
been  despoiled.  Less  than  this  may  not  be 
required. 

Such  are  the  conditions  of  a  just  peace;  for 
peoples,  liberty,  freedom  from  despotism,  unions 
agreed  upon  according  to  natural  affinity  and 
desire;  for  individuals,  indemnification  for  losses 


218        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

suffered,  reconstitution  of  the  former  condition 
of  things.  These  are  not  conditions  minima, 
they  are  not  conditions  maxima;  they  are  the 
only  conditions  possible,  because  they  are  the 
only  equitable  conditions.  Justice  knows  neither 
maxima  nor  minima.  Either  it  is  justice  or  it 
is  not. 

But  this  first  object  is  not  enough.  It  is  the 
most  urgent — to  restore  things  to  their  proper 
state,  to  redress  wrongs,  and  so  far  as  possible 
give  to  every  one  his  due.  But  what  guarantees 
the  world,  thus  remade,  against  a  possible  re 
turn  of  Force?  What  secures  existence,  es 
pecially  to  the  small  nations  whose  rights  have 
been  so  outrageously  violated?  There  is  only 
one  way  to  maintain  and  consolidate  the  work 
built  up  by  justice,  and  that  is  to  create  a 
"Society  of  Nations." 

This  is  the  essential  thing,  without  which 
everything  that  is  done  is  of  no  account.  "Our 
object  now,  as  then,  is  to  vindicate  the  princi 
ples  of  peace  and  justice  in  the  life  of  the  world 
as  against  selfish  and  autocratic  power  and  to 
set  up  amongst  the  really  free  and  self -governed 
peoples  of  the  world  such  a  concert  of  purpose 
and  of  action  as  will  henceforth  ensure  the  ob 
servance  of  those  principles."1  Here  again 

1  President  Wilson,  Message  to  Congress,  Ap  ril  2,  1917. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    219 

realism  resumes  its  rights,  but  it  is  a  broad- 
visioned  realism  which  insures  the  final  triumph 
of  the  ideal.  It  is  nothing  to  vanquish  if  the 
victory  must  eternally  be  subject  to  question. 
What  must  be  vanquished  is  not  a  predatory 
people,  it  is  not  Germany,  it  is  war  itself. 

What  we  demand  are  guarantees  against  war, 
guarantees  not  territorial;  there  is  no  right  of 
defense  that  can  prevail  against  the  will  of  a 
people.  We  must  have  legal  guarantees  rest 
ing  upon  legal  bonds  contracted  by  all  nations, 
and  placing  international  force  at  the  service  of 
outraged  units.  This,  again,  is  the  precise 
counterpart  of  private  justice.  A  people  will 
seek  redress  for  crimes  of  which  they  are  vic 
tims  before  the  bar  of  the  international  tribunal 
as  a  citizen  seeks  redress  for  personal  injuries 
before  the  tribunals  of  his  country.  And  just 
as  the  national  public  force  is  put  at  the  service 
of  the  wronged  individual,  so  the  international 
public  force  will  rise  up  against  any  crime 
against  a  nation.  To  this  end  it  is  necessary 
and  it  is  enough  that  the  Internation  shall  be 
come  a  reality. 

It  will  become  such  because  it  is  a  necessity. 
There  was  a  time,  and  not  so  long  ago,  when 
private  justice  too  was  illusory  or  paltry;  in  the 
early  period  of  our  history,  at  the  beginning  of 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  Middle  Ages,  was  there  any  justice  for  the 
poor  against  the  rich,  for  the  weak  against  the 
strong?  Was  there  even,  properly  speaking, 
justice  for  the  poor  against  the  poor,  or  the 
weak  against  the  weak?  But  as  they  became 
civilized,  and  in  order  to  become  civilized,  peo 
ple  instituted  legal  guarantees.  For  fact  they 
substituted  law,  at  first  precarious,  uncertain, 
by  degrees  more  and  more  fixed  and  weighty, 
until  finally  law  existed  in  the  same  measure  as 
society  existed. 

The  same  will  inevitably  be  the  case  in  the 
new  world  which  is  being  prepared.  If  this  war, 
with  its  horrors,  has  proved  anything,  it  is  that 
the  world  cannot  live  without  justice.  Iniquity 
has  engendered  ruin  at  a  moment  of  universal, 
unprecedented  prosperity;  it  has  wasted  money 
by  milliards,  and  slaughtered  men  by  millions. 
Humanity  must  organize  itself  against  collective 
suicide  and  ruin.  It  can  do  so  only  under  the 
form  of  the  Internation. 

It  is  the  Internation,  realized  within  the  limits 
of  its  territory,  which  has  permitted  the  un 
heard-of  development  of  the  United  States  of 
America.  It  is  the  Internation  alone  which 
will  make  possible  the  resurrection  of  Europe. 
There  must  be  a  "Constitution  of  the  United 
States  of  the  World '  and  an  International 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL 

Supreme  Court.  There  must  be  a  common 
charter,  an  organ  of  union  between  all  the  lib 
erated  nations.  The  modalities  are  yet  to  be 
found,  but  the  principle  is  indisputable,  and  it 
will  triumph  over  sullen  resistance  and  embit 
tered  prejudice.  "And  then  the  freed  peoples 
of  the  world  must  draw  together  in  some  com 
mon  covenant,  some  genuine  and  practical  co 
operation  that  will  in  effect  combine  their  force 
to  secure  peace  and  justice  in  the  dealings  of 
nations  with  one  another."1 

Thus,  by  the  way  of  "liberty  and  equality" 
we  reach  true  fraternity,  not  only  between  men 
but  between  peoples.  "The  brotherhood  of 
mankind  must  no  longer  be  a  fair  but  empty 
phrase;  it  must  be  given  a  structure  of  force 
and  reality."2  It  is  not  simply  a  question  of 
independence  but  of  efficacious  mutual  aid.  It 
must  no  longer  be  a  question  whether  we  shall 
again  witness  the  scandal  of  a  Belgium  invaded, 
violated,  and  bathed  in  blood  by  those  who  had 
themselves  guaranteed  her  neutrality.  There 
must  never  again  be  a  "self-sacrifice  for  inter 
national  honor."  3  The  era  of  martyrdom  must 
be  definitively  closed,  for  such  heroisms,  though 
they  be  the  glory  of  those  who  suffer  and  die  by 

1  President  Wilson,  Note  to  Russia  Stating  War  Aims.  2  76. 

3  Royce,  The  Duty  of  Americans  in  the  Present  War,  p.  4. 


222        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

them,  are  the  shame  of  humanity  that  permitted 
them  to  suffer  and  to  die.  Side  by  side  with 
their  legitimate,  indispensable  individual  lives, 
which  in  the  past  had  the  misfortune  of  being 
narrowly  and  unintelligently  selfish,  "the  na 
tions  must  realize  their  common  life  and  effect 
a  workable  partnership  to  secure  that  life 
against  the  aggression  of  autocratic  and  self- 
pleasing  power."1 

The  American  ideal  in  international  matters 
is  that  of  "organized  peace."  In  fact  America 
borrowed  a  part  of  the  idea  from  Germany 
herself,  that  of  the  "organization"  of  which  she 
is  so  proud,  and  not  without  some  reason,  since 
it  has  so  long  enabled  her  to  make  head  "against 
a  whole  world  of  enemies."  But  the  United 
States  propose  to  put  organization  to  uses 
diametrically  opposed  to  hers.  They  will  or 
ganize  peace,  will  organize  humanity,  will  or 
ganize  the  ideal  that  they  may  realize  it.  They 
will  kill  war. 

"To  such  a  task  we  dedicate  our  lives  and 
our  fortunes,  everything  that  we  are  and  every 
thing  that  we  have,  with  the  pride  of  those  who 
know  that  the  day  has  come  when  America  is 

1  President  Wilson,  Note  to  Russia  Stating  War  Aims. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL 

privileged  to  spend  her  blood  and  her  might 
for  the  principles  that  gave  her  birth  and  happi 
ness  and  the  peace  which  she  has  treasured. 
God  helping  her,  she  can  do  no  other."1 

This  conclusion  of  Mr.  Wilson's  Message 
raises  his  country  to  its  true  plane  and  there  is 
none  higher.  To  it  may  be  applied,  and  there 
can  be  no  nobler  eulogy,  what  Michelet  said  of 
France,  that  among  all  European  nations  she 
was  the  one  that  knew  how  to  fight  "for  dis 
interested  causes  that  would  profit  only  the 
world." 

America  has  a  sense  of  what  she  owes  to  the 
world,  and  in  this  she  is  in  harmony  with  her 
self,  with  "the  principles  of  which  she  was  born." 
It  was  her  ideal  which  brought  her  into  being. 
For  her,  to  be  just  is  the  first  condition  of  exist 
ence.  To  be  unjust  would  be  to  die.  No,  she 
could  "do  no  other." 

"The  day  has  arrived,"  not  the  day  of  glory 
— for  that  implies  a  notion  of  war  and  of  vic 
tory  by  arms — but  the  day  of  justice,  and  of 
justice  for  all.  What  President  Wilson  willed 
for  America  he  also  wills  for  the  universe. 
While  he  was  struggling  against  the  greedy  and 
menacing  power  of  the  trusts,  it  one  day  occurred 
to  him  to  say:  "What  we  propose  therefore  in 

1  Id.,  Message  to  Congress,  April  2,  1917. 


224        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

this  programme  of  freedom,  is  a  programme  of 
general  advantage."1  What  is  he  doing  to-day 
but  extending  to  all  nations  those  benefits  of 
liberty  by  which  until  now  his  country  alone 
has  been  able  completely  to  profit?  He  would 
no  longer  consent  to  the  supremacy  of  Germany 
—that  bad  shepherd  and  tyrant  of  the  world — 
than  he  would  consent  to  the  supremacy  of  the 
"companies,"  though  they  might  be  good  ty 
rants  and  shepherds  devoted  to  the  flock.  No 
nation  should  be  a  flock,  no  nation  should  be 
either  an  instrument  or  an  object  of  domina 
tion  by  another  people.  Either  liberty  is  for 
all,  or  it  is  not  liberty. 

But  men  in  general  have  altogether  too  artless 
a  notion  of  liberty.  Among  individuals  it  runs 
the  risk,  through  competition,  of  ending  in  mo 
nopoly.  Among  nations  it  tends,  by  means  of 
violence,  to  constitute  a  hegemony,  and  from  the 
hegemony  of  one  to  the  servitude  of  another 
there  is  only  a  step.  "Freedom,  to-day,  is 
something  more  than  being  left  alone.  The 
programme  of  a  government  of  freedom  must 
in  these  days  be  positive  and  not  negative 
merely."2  What  more  eloquent  commentary 
on  these  words,  which  were  spoken  to  Ameri 
cans  only,  shall  we  find  than  certain  passages 

1  Id.,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  265.  2  Ib.,  p.  284. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL    225 

of  the  Message  to  Congress  or  of  the  Notifica 
tion  to  the  Russian  People? 

To  sum  up,  is  not  this  foreseen  and  com 
mended  "readjustment"  explicitly  affirmed  in 
this  explanation  of  the  word  "freedom"? 
What  is  freedom?  "Human  freedom  consists 
in  perfect  readjustments  of  human  interests 
and  human  activities,  and  human  energies."1 
So  to  harmonize  the  free  play  of  forces  as  to 
obtain  the  maximum  of  result,  is  always  the 
same  concrete  and  practical  method  that  is 
applied  to  America  alone,  and  which  is  to  be 
extended  to  all  humanity. 

This  is  the  basis  of  the  policy  of  harmony 
and  collaboration.  Even  this  must  pay,  and 
thus  far  it  is  truly  American;  it  will  pay  in  pros 
perity  and  well-being.  This  fraternal  liberty  is 
not  a  synonym  of  sterility  but  of  intense  pro 
ductivity.  It  is  a  combination  of  efforts  in  the 
plenitude  of  self-possession.  The  world  may 
no  more  be  monopolized  than  an  individual,  a 
class,  a  country.  Let  each  nation  be  a  focus, 
a  point  of  expansion,  and  here  also  let  demo 
cratic  pluralism  oppose  itself  to  autocratic  mon 
ism. 

And  all  under  the  segis  of  the  law,  of  the 
bond  accepted  by  all.  "Liberty  armed  with 

1  /&.,  pp.  281,  282. 


226        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

law."1  Such  was  from  the  beginning  the  doc 
trine,  at  once  binding  and  emancipating,  of 
those  who  made  the  United  States.  "What 
do  we  find  proposed  in  the  writings  of  the  men 
who  founded  America?  To  serve  the  self- 
seeking  interests  of  America?  Never:  but  to 
serve  the  cause  of  humanity,  to  bring  liberty  to 
the  human  race." 2  A  people  is  great  which, 
like  this  one,  can  exist  only  on  the  condition  of 
excelling  itself.  The  United  States  have  willed 
and  have  attempted  to  realize,  with  the  help 
of  all  other  countries,  the  country  of  humanity. 
Michelet  said:  "The  patrie  is  a  large  friend 
ship."  America  may  add:  "Humanity  is  the 
largest  friendship." 

It  is  impossible  not  to  be  struck  by  the  re 
semblance  that  exists  between  the  American 
ideal  and  that  of  the  great  French  revolution 
ists.  These  affinities  have  more  than  once 
been  noticed.  "The  Americans,"  wrote  Mr. 
Morton  Fullerton,  "have  become  the  coadjutors, 
the  associates,  the  continuators  of  the  French 
in  their  inveterate  and  remarkable  tendency 
always  to  undertake  a  world  task.  The  two 
countries  have  in  fact  often  been  called  to  work 

1  Les  titats-Unis  et  la  France,  Conference  de  I.  M.  Baldwin,  p.  167. 

2  76.,  p.  238. 


THE  INTERNATIONAL  IDEAL     227 

for  other  interests  than  their  own.  It  is  a  part 
of  their  peculiar  destiny  to  have  to  live,  not  only 
for  themselves  but  for  humanity."1  And  he 
adds:  "The  only  people  in  the  world  at  the 
present  time  capable  of  apprehending  some 
thing  of  the  precise  sense  of  the  word  'humanity' 
as  the  French  use  it,  are  perhaps  those  of  North 
America."2 

Nothing  is  more  true.  The  American  busi 
ness  man  with  his  unpolished  manners  and  the 
thoughtful  Frenchman  with  his  rare  and  delicate 
sentiments  are,  in  spite  of  appearance,  the  two 
beings  in  the  world  best  qualified  to  understand 
one  another.  Both  have  the  sense  of  political 
equality,  both  have  the  democratic  sense,  and, 
above  all,  both  have  what  may  be  called  the 
world  sense. 

But  they  have  it  very  differently.  The 
Frenchman  is,  above  all,  intellectualistic,  he 
moves  among  general  as  well  as  generous  ideas, 
he  conceives  his  ideal  before  he  realizes  it.  The 
American,  busy,  practical,  realizes  his  idea  be 
fore  conceiving  it.  During  long  centuries  the 
Frenchman  has  aspired  after  liberty  while  sub 
mitting  to  servitude,  and  after  breaking  his 
chain  he  has  more  than  once  assumed  it  again, 
and  has  even  forged  a  new  one.  The  American, 

1 76.,  Fullerton  Lecture,  p.  187.  »  76..  p.  188. 


228        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  moment  he  became  aware  of  the  yoke, 
shook  it  off,  and  perceived  that  he  willed  liberty 
on  the  day  when  he  achieved  it.  Both  are 
broadly,  deeply  human,  but  the  Frenchman  was 
always  conscious  of  being  such,  and  was  such 
by  instinct,  without  calculation;  while  the 
American,  powerfully  self-interested,  sought  first 
of  all  and  only  to  realize  himself,  and  perceived 
that  he  could  not  effect  this  without  liberating 
his  fellows.  He  arose  to  the  loftiest  humani 
tarian  conceptions  without  willing  or  being 
aware  of  it,  and  almost  in  spite  of  himself. 

But  what  matter  the  roads  trodden  so  long 
as  they  lead  to  the  same  end?  That  which 
these  two  peoples  have  in  common  is  the  indi 
vidualism  which  alone,  in  spite  of  its  anarchistic 
aspects,  brings  it  to  pass  that  from  self-respect 
one  rises  to  respect  for  his  fellow  beings,  and 
learns  to  treat  them  as  equals.  With  opposite 
temperaments,  with  different  methods,  one  on 
the  plane  of  thought  and  the  other  on  the  plane 
of  action,  France  and  America  will  be  the  two 
great  emancipating  nations,  because  they  are 
the  two  great  idealistic  nations. 


CHAPTER    V 

AMERICAN  IDEALISM 

IDEALISM   AND   REALISM.— IS  THERE   AN 
AMERICAN   IDEALISM? 

WHAT  is  idealism  ?     In  what  sense  may 
one  say  that  American  idealism  exists  ? 
To    answer   these    questions    is    to 
penetrate  to  the  very  depths  of  the  American 
soul.     Does  this  people,  the  "people  of  action," 
shut  itself  up  in  the  vigorous  but  narrow  self- 
interest   which   is   generally   recognized   as   its 
single  virtue  ?     Or  do  they  not  cause  to  spring 
up    from    this    very    realism,    perhaps    uncon 
sciously,  an  idealism  of  renewed  youth  ? 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM 

There  is  no  American  idealism. — The  meagreness  of  American 
life. — Philosophical  empiricism. — Utilitarian  religion. — Imi 
tative  art. — Lack  of  sentimental  comprehension. — The 
morals  of  self-interest. 

We  find  in  the  language  of  philosophy  few 
words  which  express  more  things,  and  express 
them  more  inadequately,  than  the  word  "ideal- 

229 


230        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

ism."  And  yet,  if  the  sense  which  it  offers  to 
the  mind  is  far  from  clear,  there  is  no  mistaking 
the  sentiment  which  it  awakens  within  us.  In 
every  domain  it  implies  that,  beyond  that  which 
is  and  which  is  bad  or  average,  one  conceives 
of  and  desires  something  which  shall  be  sover 
eignly  good,  or  at  least  infinitely  better.  To 
be  an  idealist  is  to  be  not  contented  with  the 
present  existence;  to  feel  with  regard  to  the 
world  that  is,  perhaps  contempt,  in  any  case 
dissatisfaction,  and  to  aspire  to  surpass  it. 

Consequently,  he  is  not  an  idealist  whose 
great  concern  is  to  live,  to  confine  himself  within 
the  narrow  sphere  of  his  practical  occupation, 
in  the  meagreness  of  material  business  and  purely 
human  interests.  And  if,  as  is  certainly  the 
case,  this  is  the  simplified  but  faithful  schema 
of  existence  in  the  New  World,  is  it  really  pos 
sible  to  speak  of  American  idealism  ? 

Far  from  weakening,  the  objective  appears 
to  take  on  greater  force  if  we  pass  from  generali 
ties  to  details,  and  follow  the  scent  of  idealism 
through  the  various  domains  into  which  it  as 
sumes  to  penetrate.  There  is,  first  of  all,  a 
philosophic  idealism,  which  is  essentially  char 
acterized  by  distrust  of  experience  and  belief 
in  suprasensible  realities.  This  is  the  idealism 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  231 

of  Plato,  to  whom  sensation  is  only  the  deceit 
ful  symbol  of  the  idea,  and  who,  over  against  the 
fluid  and  inconstant  universe  of  disintegrating 
facts,  sets  the  intelligible  world  of  pure,  eternal 
essences.  It  is  that  of  Descartes,  that  mathe 
matical  genius  who  resolved  facts  into  ideas, 
and  forced  empirical  reality,  all  quivering  with 
life  and  overflowing  with  wealth,  into  the  cold, 
uniform  equation  that  expresses  it;  what  we 
call  reality  is  an  apparent  mirage  created  by  the 
imagination,  that  "mistress  of  error,"  and  which 
the  understanding  dissipates,  reducing  the  world 
to  be  only  one  great  truth.  It  is  finally  the 
Kantian  idealism,  which  on  one  side  admits  of 
nothing  outside  of  the  mind  but  a  froth  and 
chaos  of  sensations,  disconnected  and  formless, 
upon  which  pure  Reason  imposes  its  laws, 
which  above  all  sees  in  the  work  of  Reason 
herself,  and  of  the  science  which  she  constructs, 
nothing  but  an  organized  and  systematized 
illusion,  and  places  true  reality  outside  of  ex 
perience,  outside  of  the  senses,  outside  even  of 
the  intelligence,  in  the  inaccessible  and  super 
natural  world  of  the  thing  in  itself. 

The  feature  common  to  all  these  doctrines  is 
their  defiance  of  facts,  of  the  concrete;  the  ex 
ternal  world  is  only  a  dream,  and  all  reality 
takes  refuge  in  the  domain  of  ideas.  Nothing 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

is  more  repugnant  to  the  realistic  mind  of  the 
American.  He  has  not  the  philosophic  head; 
he  lives  in  direct  and  permanent  contact  with 
the  facts  which  metaphysics  removes  from  his 
road.  He  has  and  he  will  have  no  general  ideas, 
no  rigid  and  finished  concepts.  He  cannot  com 
prehend  the  permanence  and  immutability  of 
the  Platonic  essences,  or  of  the  categories  of 
Kant,  he  who  lives  in  the  fluctuation,  the  move 
ment,  the  perpetual  renewing  of  beings  and 
things.  He  is  not  an  "intellectual,"  a  "deli 
cate"  person;  he  is  a  man  of  action  and  of  reali 
zation,  a  "barbarian."  l 

There  is  also  a  religious  idealism  which  he  is 
incapable  of  understanding.  It  is  that  of  the 
strict  Christian,  the  man  of  contemplation,  who 
turns  with  disgust  from  the  things  of  this  world, 
who  flees  the  "shameful  attachments  of  the 
world  and  the  flesh"2  to  lose  himself  in  ecstasy 
and  live  in  God,  far  from  men,  freed  from  all 
the  defilements  of  this  "flesh  of  sin,"  seeking 
salvation  in  solitude  and  self -mortification.  The 
ascetic  ideal  of  the  monk  in  his  cell,  or  his 
Thebaid,  the  life  which,  in  the  words  of  The 
Imitation,  confines  itself  to  "meditation  on 

1  William  James,  Pragmatism,  p.  12. 

2  Corneille,  Polyeucte,  Act  IV,  Scene  II. 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  233 

death"  —what  sense  can  it  have  for  this  people 
of  "toilers,"  whose  affections  are  set  upon  a 
purely  human  task?  The  God  of  whom  they 
think  is  not  a  mystical  God  exacting  from  his 
creatures  acts  of  sterile  adoration,  an  absentee 
God  "in  a  world  in  which  a  God  would  be  su 
perfluous  ;  from  such  a  world  a  God  could  never 
be  missed."1  He  is  a  God  made  for  man,  who 
works  in  concert  with  him,  who  comes  down 
into  the  arena  and  struggles  at  his  side.  His 
kingdom  is  of  this  world. 

As  for  cesthetic  idealism,  it  is  still  more  foreign 
than  the  others  to  the  positive  spirit  of  the 
American.  Absorbed  in  urgent  needs,  he  has 
only  tardily  and  incompletely  arrived  at  art, 
poetry,  literature.  Art  is  a  luxury,  the  luxury 
of  the  refined.  It  presupposes  long  leisure,  the 
exquisite  indifference  of  a  La  Fontaine,  musing 
in  the  delicate  and  lonely  landscapes  of  the 
Ile-de-France,  or  the  austere  labor  of  an  Alfred 
de  Vigny,  shut  up  in  his  "ivory  tower."  One 
must,  with  Lamartine,  "lead  his  muse  to  the 
depths  of  solitude,"  and 

"Make  fragrant  his  heart  for  its  resting-place." 

But  how,  in  this  severe  daily  battle  which  con 
stitutes  American  life,  in  its  shocks  and  fevers, 

1  William  James,  op.  cit.,  p.  104. 


234        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

shall  one  find  the  calm  retreat  necessary  to  the 
artist?  Above  all,  how,  with  this  love  of  the 
active  life,  shall  one  so  shake  off  the  thousand 
demands  of  the  outer  world  as  to  give  himself 
to  the  slow  ripening  of  a  masterpiece?  How, 
indeed,  shall  this  practical  imagination,  wholly 
directed  toward  the  creation  of  mechanical  ap 
pliances  and  utilitarian  scientific  inventions, 
pursue  the  course  of  its  revery  and  place  its 
ideal  in  the  mere  expansion  of  a  state  of  soul 
which  has  no  other  object  than  itself? 

The  American,  then,  cannot  conceive  of  the 
pure  aesthetic  ideal,  "art  for  art's  sake."  Nor 
can  he  much  more  easily  conceive  of  art  as  a 
means  to  an  end,  outside  of  itself.  He  is  still 
in  the  period  of  imitation.  His  architecture, 
even  his  paintings,  have  the  stamp  of  his  Eu 
ropean  masters.  There  is  no  American  school 
of  art,  and  still  less  is  there  an  artistic  genius  of 
the  race.1 

*It  is  self-evident  that  the  conception  thus  outlined  is  that  of  the 
American  people  in  general,  necessarily  leaving  out  of  the  question  the 
few  individual  efforts  which  would  react  against  this  tendency.  One 
of  these  is  particularly  interesting.  It  is  that  which  Mr.  Baldwin  in  his 
Genetic  Theory  of  Reality  (1916),  of  which  a  French  edition  is  about  to 
appear,  has  developed  under  the  name  of  Pancalism  (from  pan,  all,  and 
kalos,  beautiful),  a  very  new  and  original  theory  which  seeks  to  reconcile 
intellectualism  and  pragmatism  by  a  synthesis  establishing  the  hegemony 
of  the  aesthetic.  According  to  the  author  this  is  done  by  addressing 
oneself  to  the  synthetic  domain  of  art,  in  which  American  life  will  seek 
and  has  already  sought  to  escape  from  the  encroachments  of  utilitarian 
ism  See  on  this  subject  M.  Lalande's  article  on  "Pancalism,"  Revue 
philosophiquc,  15  decembre  1915. 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  235 

Can  we  at  least  find  in  the  United  States 
traces  of  what  may  be  called  sentimental  ideal 
ism  ?  More  profoundly  human  than  any  other, 
this  nation  responds  to  that  imperious  need  of 
affection  which  is  the  privilege  of  no  one  peo 
ple,  the  need  of  loving  and  still  more  of  being 
loved.  Passion  is  of  no  time  and  no  country. 

But  no,  here  again  we  meet  with  disappoint 
ment.  The  fevers  of  passion,  its  wild  hopes, 
its  crushing  despairs,  all  that  antiquity  and 
Europe  have  sung,  awaken  few  echoes  in  the 
United  States.  Of  all  our  poets  Huret  found 
Musset  to  be  the  least  understood  by  American 
girls,  and  doubtless  also  by  their  brothers.  It 
/would  seem  that  the  American  is  too  much  in 
haste  to  act  to  be  able  to  feel  profoundly. 
Those  "reasons  of  the  heart  of  which  the  reason 
knows  nothing"  neither  move  nor  disturb  him; 
he  is  too  cold  and  reasonable,  perhaps,  also  too 
healthy,  for  that.  The  infinite  delicacy  of  a 
Sully-Prudhomme  is  as  foreign  to  him  as  the 
sickly  refinement  of  a  Beaudelaire,  and  from 
this  point  of  view,  at  least,  all  our  poetic  and 
sentimental  literature  is  to  him  a  dead  letter. 

Finally,  even  to  moral  idealism  he  seems  in 
accessible.  The  idea  of  sacrifice,  of  the  gift  of 
oneself,  taken  literally,  is  not  an  American  idea. 
He  deems  it  absurd  and  almost  revolting.  To 


236        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

sacrifice  oneself  for  nothing,  for  an  abstraction, 
a  pure  idea,  is  nonsense  to  him.  He  will  readily 
admit  that  it  is  to  his  interest  to  be  virtuous; 
but  that  virtue  has  a  value,  in  itself  considered, 
he  would  find  it  difficult  to  concede.  He  does 
not  understand  disinterestedness,  pure  and  sim 
ple,  self-abnegation;  we  may  go  further  and  say 
that  his  conscience  protests  against  it,  and  pro 
tests  in  the  name  of  Right.  Why  should  I  subor 
dinate  myself  to  another?  Why  should  I  con 
sider  his  interest  before  my  own?  Why,  if  he 
is  weak,  should  I  squander  myself  for  his  suc 
cor?  Why,  if  he  is  incapable,  should  I  try  to 
save  a  worthless  man?  Let  us  be  just,  not 
charitable.  Charity  is  a  weakness.  The  Amer 
ican  has  too  strong  and  too  powerful  a  person 
ality  to  consent  to  abdicate  it  in  the  name  of  a 
so-called  duty.  Is  it  not  his  true  duty  to  be 
himself  ? 

But  in  this  case  where  is  idealism?  Where 
is  the  ideal?  We  have  to  do  with  a  people  of 
rare  energy,  indomitable,  but  of  short  and  con 
tracted  views.  Their  eyes  are  not  lifted  to  the 
heavens,  to  a  star.  They  keep  them  bent  upon 
the  earth.  They  perform  their  task  manfully, 
but  they  do  not  surpass  themselves,  and  the 
property  of  idealism,  as  we  have  said,  is  to  sur- 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  237 

pass  oneself.  The  American  is  a  realist.  He  is 
the  most  daring  and  powerful  of  realists,  but 
he  is  only  this. 


II 

AMERICAN  IDEALISM 

There  is  an  American  idealism. — Idealism  of  action,  not  of 
thought. — Philosophy  of  life  and  of  creation. — Religion  of 
humanity  and  salvation  by  effort. — Militant  art. — Strong 
sensibility  against  weak  sensibility. — The  morals  of  will  and 
of  work. — Fundamental  tendency:  to  "free  energies"  in 
order  to  "liberate  values." 

Conclusion:  The  practical  ideal  of  actuality  substituted  for 
the  intellectual  ideal  of  culture. 

The  judgment  appears  to  be  without  appeal, 
and  yet,  in  the  course  of  our  work,  we  have 
brought  forward  numerous,  and  it  seems  to  us, 
incontestable  proofs  of  the  idealistic  tendencies 
of  the  American  soul.  We  have  seen  this  ideal 
ism  at  work,  and,  so  to  speak,  in  action. 

Is  not  here  the  key  to  the  problem?  Ameri 
can  idealism  is  not  a  theoretic  idealism,  con 
ceived  and  formulated;  it  is  a  practical  idealism 
which  springs  from  action  itself.  It  is  wholly 
in  the  creative  impulse. 

From  this  point  of  view  all  becomes  clear. 
The  American  does  not  lay  out  in  advance 
what  he  afterward  endeavors  to  carry  out. 


238        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

He  does  not,  like  Plato,  construct  an  ideal  re 
public  on  paper,  on  which  archetype  he  after 
ward  tries,  vainly  indeed,  to  model  existing  so 
ciety.  No,  he  begins  by  forming  a  real  republic, 
which  goes  on  as  it  can,  not  without  jerks,  and 
from  which  emanates  in  fact,  and  not  in  idea, 
the  ideal  which  it  potentially  contained,  and 
which  passes  into  act  as  the  republic  develops. 
An  ideal  which,  in  fact,  is  not  mere  "Platonic," 
which  is  not  a  mere  representation,  doubtless 
perfect  and  adorned  with  all  the  virtues,  like 
Roland's  mare,  and,  like  her,  having  only  the 
one  fault  of  being  dead,  and  indeed  of  having 
been  still-born;  an  ideal  which,  on  the  con 
trary,  has  as  many  defects  as  you  please,  with 
the  one  good  quality — which  counts  for  some 
thing — of  being  alive  and  even  life-giving,  an 
ideal  which  makes  a  people  live,  and  which  per 
haps  will  to-morrow  revive  the  human  race. 

If,  by  the  light  of  this  guiding  thought,  we 
survey  anew  each  department  of  human  activity 
in  which  idealism  might  and  ought  to  be  found, 
we  shall  perceive  the  original  and  fruitful  part 
which  American  idealism  has  played  in  it. 

First,  an  essentially  philosophical  part.  Phi 
losophy,  like  the  humanity  of  which  she  is  only 
a  well-considered  expression,  is  at  one  of  the 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  239 

great  turning-points  of  history.  She  feels  that 
the  absolute  is  escaping  her  grasp,  and  that  in 
making  every  effort  to  define  it  she  is  running 
the  risk  of  clasping  only  a  shadow.  She  must 
more  and  more  draw  near  to  the  concrete,  to 
life.  It  is  surely  the  merit  of  philosophy  to 
make  the  life  that  we  are  actually  living  appear 
real  and  serious.1  If  to  this  end  she  must 
exorcise  the  absolute,  must  exorcise  the  great 
destroyer  of  the  only  life  which  we  feel  within 
us,2  so  much  the  worse  for  the  absolute.  If 
even  pure  intellectualism  have  some  little  to 
suffer  by  it,  so  much  the  worse  for  intellectual- 
ism.  It  is  for  it  to  abandon  whatever  may 
have  been  outworn  or  excessive  in  its  preten 
sions.  Life  was  not  made  for  thought;  thought 
should  adapt  and  suit  itself  to  life.  The  suc 
cess  of  pragmatism,  of  Bergsonianism  (a  phi 
losophy  from  many  points  of  view  very  Ameri 
can),  is,  above  all  things,  due  to  this  profound 
reason.  "The  great  thing  in  philosophy  is  not 
logic  but  impassioned  vision,"3  the  vision  of  this 
very  life,  this  "strenuous  life,"  of  which  Mr. 
Roosevelt  speaks,  and  which  the  American  lives. 
In  this  realism  there  is  no  annihilation;  no 
destruction,  of  the  ideal,  but  its  renewal  and  re 
vitalizing.  There  will  no  longer  be  an  intellec- 

» William  James.  2  Id.  » Id. 


240        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

tual  world  suspended  above  a  sensible  world; 
the  ideal  will  not  be  superimposed  upon  the 
real  in  a  more  or  less  artificial  manner;  it  will 
express  nothing  other  than  the  urge  of  reality 
itself.  The  ideal  will  be  the  free  and  joyful 
realization  of  life  as  a  whole;  we  shall  not  live 
for  an  ideal,  the  ideal  will  make  one  body  with 
life;  it  will  be  life  with  its  pliability,  its  enthu 
siasm,  its  radiance. 

In  its  turn  religious  idealism  is  revived  as  it 
approaches  the  real,  the  true  world.  The  celes 
tial  country  plunges  its  roots  into  the  most  pro 
found  depths  of  the  terrestrial  country.  As  a 
result,  the  spiritual  life  becomes  a  function  of 
the  material  life;  its  principal  duty  is  to  regulate 
and  administer  it,  to  "give  pasture"  to  man. 
"I  have  often  reflected  that  there  is  a  very 
human  order  in  the  petitions  in  our  Lord's 
Prayer.  For  we  pray  first  of  all,  'Give  us  this 
day  our  daily  bread,'  knowing  that  it  is  useless 
to  pray  for  spiritual  graces  on  an  empty  stom 
ach,  and  that  the  amount  of  wages  we  get,  the 
kind  of  clothes  we  wear,  the  kind  of  food  we 
can  afford  to  buy  is  fundamental  to  everything 
else."1  Far  from  lowering  the  religious  ideal, 
such  a  realism  exalts  it,  gives  it  rights  of  citi- 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  197. 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  241 

zenship  among  men.  It  no  longer  incurs  the 
severe  reproach  which  an  American  author 
justly  directed  against  the  monachal  and  con 
templative  conception:  "Religion  is  like  a  sleep 
walker,  to  whom  actual  things  are  blank."1 
It  is  no  longer  a  question  of  losing  oneself  in 
God,  with  the  mystic,  seeking  salvation  in  in 
ward  purification.  God  should  come  down  to 
men,  and  that  later,  in  a  future  life,  he  may  be 
better,  should  begin  by  rendering  him  less 
wretched  here  below.  "Whatever  the  God  of 
heaven  and  earth  is,  he  can  surely  be  no  gen 
tleman.  His  menial  services  are  needed  in  the 
dust  of  our  human  trials."2  The  way  of  sal 
vation  is  happiness,  merited  happiness,  happi 
ness  by  means  of  justice,  of  course,  but  the 
prosperity  for  which  God  works  side  by  side 
with  men,  and,  we  are  almost  bold  to  say, 
treating  him  as  equal  to  equal.  If  he  has  a  credit 
against  us  we  have  also  one  to  present  to  him. 
We  owe  him  labor  and  he  owes  us  its  reward. 

The  ideal  value  of  religion,  then,  is  to  bring 
strength  to  life,  to  intensify  effort,  to  augment 
the  confidence  of  the  "robust."  It  is  to  give 
tone  to  the  individual. 

The   same   is  the  case  with  art.     No  doubt 


1  Morrison  J.  Swift,  quoted  by  William  James,  Pragmatism,  p.  32. 

2  /&.,  p.  72. 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

the  American  is  not  naturally  an  artist;  above 
all,  he  is  not  one  according  to  the  accepted 
formula,  he  admits  no  art  that  is  foreign  to  life. 
But  he  draws  from  life  itself  the  sound  of  a 
whisper  and  a  flame  of  which  only  youthful 
peoples  know  the  secret.  That  in  plastic  art 
he  may  be  more  imitative  than  original,  not 
withstanding  the  many  talents  that  he  has  re 
vealed,  that  especially  in  architecture  he  is 
lacking  in  reserve  and  in  taste,  seeks  for  effect, 
and  at  times  confuses  the  striking  with  the 
beautiful,  is  possible.  But  he  brings  to  litera 
ture,  with  the  humor  which  is  the  special  gift 
of  certain  of  his  authors,  a  freshness  of  expres 
sion  and  an  ardor  which  is  only  too  seldom 
found  in  our  lands  of  culture  and  decorum. 

Let  any  one  read  a  page  of  Emerson,  a  poem 
of  Longfellow  or  Walt  Whitman,  or  even  an 
article  by  William  James,  and  he  is  first  of  all 
struck  by  the  energy  which  emanates  from 
these  writings,  at  once  pulsating  and  sustained. 
There  is  a  certain  air  of  relationship  between 
all  these  works,  which  yet  are  of  such  varied  in 
spirations.  All  give  the  same  impression  of 
energy,  of  easy,  happy,  unpremeditated  move 
ment.  They  have  virility,  they  have  savor. 

But  when   one  reads  further   one  perceives 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  243 

that  their  common  characteristic  is  the  lyrical 
note,  the  overflowing  of  personality,  the  effu 
sion  of  a  rich  and  vernal  nature,  spontaneous 
and  abundant.  The  American  is  lyric  because 
he  has  two  lyrical  qualities,  enthusiasm  and  in 
dividuality.  Why  should  he  not  be  enthusias 
tic  when  all  space  is  open  to  him,  when  he  lives 
in  a  sort  of  perpetual  fairy -land  of  creation  and 
invention  ?  What  matters  it  that  he  is  con 
cerned  with  material  productions  and  that  the 
smoke  of  factories  veils  the  azure  of  the  skies? 
There  is  poetry,  if  not  in  the  machine,  as  has 
too  often  been  said,  at  least  in  the  mind  of  him 
who  finds  or  builds  it,  in  the  hand  of  him  who 
works  it,  in  the  impulse  which  puts  all  these 
forces  in  action — a  somewhat  unskilled,  wild 
poetry  which  goes  well  with  his  temperament. 
As  for  his  individuality,  it  lets  itself  go  with 
the  same  ardor  whether  he  writes  or  reads  or 
carries  on  a  business.  His  literature  is  a  litera 
ture  of  action.  It  will  not  complacently  set 
forth  states  of  the  soul,  or  analyze  characters. 
To  recur  to  examples  already  given,  it  will  pro 
duce  neither  a  La  Fontaine  nor  a  Vigny,  neither 
the  shrewd  wit  of  the  "Bonhomme"  nor  the 
sad  and  lofty  serenity  of  the  author  of  the 
Destinies.  Both  of  these,  so  different  to  us, 
are  in  relation  to  it  too  complex  and  too  self- 


244        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

contained.  They  narrate  themselves,  while  it 
gives  itself.  But  while  thus  surrendering  itself 
entirely,  it  seeks  to  move  its  reader  and  carry 
him  along  with  itself,  to  work  a  change  in  him, 
to  excite  his  energies.  The  American  writes 
as  he  fights;  he  is  a  militant.  His  muse  does 
not  hold  a  lyre  in  her  hand;  she  brandishes  a 
sword  while  she  blows  a  trumpet. 

But  it  must  be  clearly  recognized  that  this 
active  idealism  can  never  be  a  sentimental  ideal 
ism.  Even  in  art  it  finds,  though  unawares  to 
itself,  an  instrument;  in  sentiment  it  meets  only 
an  obstacle.  The  American  understands  little 
of  passion  and  fondness;  if  he  did  understand 
them  he  would  be  inclined  to  fight  them.  Sen 
timent  weakens,  undermines  energy,  or  turns  it 
aside.  The  fond  are  fastidious,  the  fastidious 
are  impotent.  They  are  laggards  on  the  high 
way,  and  the  American  does  not  lag. 

A  summary  judgment,  of  which,  however, 
one  must  not  think  too  slightingly.  Lamartine 
was  equally  severe  upon  Musset,  "a  young  man 
with  a  heart  of  wax,"  and  did  not  Sully-Prud- 
homme  make  the  melancholy  avowal  of  his 
own  impotence  when  he  wrote: 

"Un  voyage,  telle  est  la  vie 
Pour  ceux  qui  n'osent  que  rever"? 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  245 

Yet  we  must  understand  one  another.  To 
object  to  the  sentimentality,  the  romantic  vague 
ness  of  soul,  the  half-sincere,  half-artificial  ago 
nies  of  Musset's  Nuits,  is  not  to  condemn  every 
sort  of  sentiment,  and  we  have  seen  that  there 
are  sentiments  that  go  straight  to  the  American 
heart,  those  that  reach  it  through  the  reason 
and  the  conscience.  Take,  for  example,  the 
German  crimes  against  Belgium,  or — apart  from 
the  interests  directly  at  stake — the  outrage 
against  women  and  children  in  the  sinking  of 
the  Lusitania.  The  American  is  easily  impres 
sionable,  but  he  is  not  affected  by  the  same 
things  as  the  Englishman,  and  especially  the 
Frenchman.  He  has  that  generosity  of  the 
righteous  man  which  refuses  to  admit  of  any 
attack  upon  the  right,  or  upon  human  person 
ality.  If  he  has  a  passion  it  is  the  passion  for 
liberty  and  law,  a  simple,  healthy,  one  may  al 
most  say  an  impersonal,  passion.  What  he 
knows  nothing  of  is  amorous  passion,  with  its 
ardors  and  its  agitations,  as  much  physiological 
as  psychological,  in  which  the  senses  and  the 
imagination  create  a  mirage  and  sometimes  a 
frenzy.  He  does  not  lose  himself  in  yearnings 
and  ecstasies.  He  feels  only  what  he  can  un 
derstand.  Sentiment  is  for  him  something  vig 
orous,  healthy,  and  strong. 


246        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

Finally,  may  we  say  of  American  niorals  that 
they  determinedly  banish  the  ideal?  Do  they 
drag  themselves  along  the  shallows  of  a  paltry 
utilitarianism  in  which  the  individual  pursues 
only  the  satisfaction  of  his  individual  desires? 
If  this  be  so,  how  are  we  to  understand  that  the 
United  States,  throughout  all  their  history, 
and  to-day  more  than  ever,  have  supported 
only  just  causes,  have  always  been  soldiers  of 
the  Right? 

Unquestionably  the  American  is  self-interested 
so  far  as  the  will  to  develop  his  individuality  to 
the  highest  degree  constitutes  what  is  called 
self-interest.  Conscious  of  his  worth,  assured 
that  he  is  a  power,  he  proposes  to  sacrifice 
nothing  of  himself,  not  one  of  all  the  possibili 
ties,  eager  to  become  actualities,  which  he  finds 
within  himself,  and  which  are  himself.  There 
fore  he  does  not  consent  that  his  will  to  power 
shall  be  shackled  or  limited.  He  is  hard  upon 
the  weak,  for  weakness  is  the  sign  either  of  in 
tellectual  mediocrity  or  moral  cowardice,  and 
nothing  really  useful  can  be  done  for  mediocrity, 
and  nothing  beneficial  for  the  cowardly.  Pity, 
charity,  gentleness,  humility — these  Christian 
virtues  seem  to  him  to  be  faults,  and  almost 
vices.  They  do  no  good  to  those  who  profit  by 
them,  they  work  harm  to  those  who  practise 
them,  for  they  prevent  his  being  himself. 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  247 

There  is  another  Christianity,  less  steeped  in 
tenderness,  by  no  means  drowned  in  tears, 
which  is  active,  fruitful.  It  does  not  content 
itself  with  saying  "Peace  to  men  of  good-will," 
for  it  is  not  enough  that  the  intention  be  pure, 
it  is  necessary  that  activity  be  real,  sustained, 
and  lead  to  something.  This  Christianity  is 
more  likely  to  say:  "Peace  to  men  of  strong 
wills."  It  does  not  preach  charity,  that  incom 
plete  and  belittled  justice  which  presupposes  and 
sanctions  inequality  among  men;  it  demands 
the  right,  that  total  justice,  which  is  possible 
only  among  equals. 

The  moral  ideal  of  the  American,  then,  is  the 
legal  ideal,  absolute  respect  for  the  human  per 
son.  It  is  a  respect  which  does  not  go  so  far 
as  to  treat  him  as  an  end,  but  which  absolutely 
forbids  treating  him  as  a  means.  It  is  not  for 
me  to  make  you  the  end  of  my  effort,  any  more 
than  to  ask  you  to  make  me  the  end  of  yours; 
each  should  work  for  his  own  well-being,  each 
should  live  his  own  life  and  not  the  life  of  others. 
Indeed  there  is  something  degrading  in  expect 
ing  another  to  live  in  your  place  and  stead,  and 
to  make  morality  the  justification  of  parasitism. 
This  is  the  condemnation  of  the  usual  philan 
thropy,  of  ill-understood  humanity. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  on  no  account  and 
upon  no  pretext  should  a  man  be  the  instru- 


248        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

ment  of  another  man,  or  a  people  the  slaves 
of  another  people.  The  individual  must  be 
freed,  and  the  world  must  be  freed.  Each  one 
must  be  enabled  to  enter  the  lists  and  there 
take  his  chance.  All  oppressions  and  all  tyran 
nies  must  be  done  away  with :  internal  tyrannies 
of  the  trusts,  money  powers  stifling  individual 
initiatives,  or  governments  by  autocrats,  politi 
cal  powers  stifling  popular  movements  and  pro 
tests;  external  tyrannies  of  military  nations, 
whose  wild  and  unwholesome  dreams  of  universal 
hegemony,  if  they  should  ever  take  form,  would 
make  the  whole  world  the  thing  of  one  indi 
vidual  and  the  tomb  of  liberty.  Morality,  the 
whole  of  morality,  is  to  break  chains,  and  every 
chain.  Let  us  apply  to  the  entire  human  race, 
as  President  Wilson  himself  did,  what  he  de 
manded  for  his  country:  "Only  the  emancipa 
tion,  the  freeing  and  heartening  of  the  vital 
energies  of  all  the  people  will  redeem  us."1 
And  again:  "We  have  got  to  set  the  energy  and 
the  initiative  of  this  great  people  absolutely 
free."  2 

Morality,  then,  has  not  charity  for  its  end; 
a  morality  of  charity  is  a  morality  of  slaves. 
It  does  not  give  more  happiness  to  man — that  is 
not  its  business — but  it  procures  for  him,  through 

1  Woodrow  Wilson,  The  New  Freedom,  p.  288.  2  Ib.,  p.  292. 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  249 

universal  enfranchisement,  the  conditions  of  a 
happy  life.  Its  true  end  is  "to  set  energies  en 
tirely  free  in  order  fully  to  release  values."1 

Value,  thus,  in  the  eyes  of  the  American,  is 
the  only  thing  that  counts;  and  this  is  why  his 
moral  conceptions  seem  to  us  on  certain  points 
so  narrow,  not  to  say  harsh,  and  on  others  so 
large.  This  is  why,  setting  out  from  self- 
interest,  which  to  him  signifies  the  right  of 
value,  and  of  every  value,  to  assert  itself,  it 
finally  ends  in  the  legal  society  of  nations,  the 
necessary  condition  and  indispensable  warrant 
of  such  an  assertion.  The  moral  ideal  is  the 
individualistic  ideal. 

Here,  then,  we  may  conclude,  there  is  an 
American  idealism,  and  we  know  both  what  it 
is  not  and  what  it  is. 

It  is  not  an  intellectual  ideal,  it  is  not  an  ideal 
of  culture,  it  is  a  practical  ideal,  an  ideal  of 
realization.  It  is  not  the  ideal  of  yesterday, 
such  as  was  conceived  by  European  thought. 
It  is  the  ideal  of  to-morrow,  such  as  is  willed 
by  American  action.  Far  from  disdaining  real 
ity,  the  American  is  at  once  inspired  by  it  and 
defies  it.  "The  world  is  a  real  adventure  with 

1  Izoulet,  Introduction  to  the  French  translation  of  The  New  Freedom, 
p.  7. 


250        THE  PEOPLE  OF  ACTION 

real  danger."1  We  have  neither  the  right  nor 
the  power  to  stand  aloof  from  it,  for  in  it  and 
by  it  we  live.  We  cannot  escape  its  embrace. 
But  we  are  not  subject  to  its  exigencies,  and  it 
is  for  us  to  modify  it  by  our  will.  It  is  not  a 
world  made  once  for  all,  a  ready-made  world; 
it  is  not  even  a  world  self-made,  mechanically, 
by  virtue  of  immutable  laws  upon  which  we 
have  no  hold.  In  reality  it  is  we  who  are  making 
it,  at  least  so  far  as  it  concerns  us,  we  who  turn 
its  necessity  in  the  direction  of  our  desires. 
This  is  our  ideal,  and  it  is  one  with  our  task. 
"If  we  must  accept  our  destiny  we  are  none  the 
less  constrained  to  assert  the  liberty  and  the 
importance  of  the  individual,  the  grandeur  of 
duty,  the  power  of  character."  2  Our  part  is 
not  to  accept  but  to  master  the  world. 

And  this  is  a  great  part,  and  moral,  for  it 
finally  establishes  the  triumph  of  mind  over 
matter.  It  is  neither  resignation  nor  revolt, 
it  is  the  well-understood  and  valiantly  accepted 
struggle  of  man  against  the  Fatum.  It  is  "ad 
venture"  and  "risk"  indeed,  without  ignorance 
as  without  fear  of  "danger."  A  people  who 
with  such  alacrity  accepts  it  is  indeed  an  ideal 
istic  people.  They  do  not  clearly  define  to 

1  William  James,  Pragmatism,  p.  290. 

2  Emerson,  The  Conduct  of  Life:  Fate. 


AMERICAN  IDEALISM  251 

themselves  their  ideals;    they  do  better,  they 
live  them. 

"The  American  ideal  is  not  that  of  the  in 
tellectual  vision  but  of  the  practical  life.  It  is 
certainly  not,  as  is  sometimes  asserted,  an  ideal 
in  the  material  order,  great,  costly,  unspiritual. 
It  is  moral  and  not  material;  its  desire  is  for 
that  which  is  just:  liberty,  equality,  fraternity 
in  the  social  and  moral  order."  1 

1  Les  Etats- Unis  et  la  France.    Conference  de  M.  Baldwin,  pp.  168. 169. 


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